


The Other Kind of Soulmate

by BlackMajjicDuchess



Series: The Other Kind of Soulmate [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: 100K Words, Childhood, Children, Cliffhangers, Despair, Family, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gen, Heartache, Hyuuga Mother, Illnesses, Itachi's Lover - Freeform, Justice, Ninja Cat, Pets, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Plot Twists, Regret, Revenge, Separations, Siblings, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Terminal Illnesses, Tragedy, Uchiha Massacre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 100,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMajjicDuchess/pseuds/BlackMajjicDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100K Word Self-Challenge</p><p>Her older sister was gone, exiled by their very own father, leaving her without the sister that she loved more than anything. Gone were the days of blanket forts, giggles, and the mispronunciation of grown up words. She had so much happiness to share, if there were anyone there to enjoy it.</p><p>His foolish little brother was far, far out of his reach. After all, he'd taken everything from him, destroyed his world, and killed any hope of enjoying a relationship with friends or family. He couldn't blame the boy for wishing him dead. He deserved death, but that he saved for a purpose, a purpose so far into the future that he was worried he would destroy himself before the day came.</p><p>They needed each other.</p><p>After all, there's something profoundly special about the family that you choose to call your own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Itachi's Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on fanfiction.net under the same pen name on 4/16/2013.
> 
> This was my challenge to myself to write 100,000 and complete the story... something I have failed to do until now.

The night was serene and peaceful in the Village Hidden in the Leaves. There was a slight breeze, but nothing too substantial. The air was sweet and heavy with the fragrance of summertime. By now, most of the villagers would be sleeping, save for the few that were on night watch duty and the night owls who preferred another schedule. Even the Uchihas were probably sleeping by now, their secret meetings adjourned for the day. But three Uchihas were certainly not asleep.

One was Sasuke, who had not yet returned from his daily dose of training.

One was Itachi, who now perched lightly on the peak of a rooftop somewhere on the Uchiha clan grounds.

And one was the inhabitant of the house with that same rooftop.

Itachi crouched on the most important rooftop in his entire world, lost in dark and troubling thoughts. He had much to consider on this fateful evening. His whole world was going to change tomorrow, one way or another. The decision was entirely his, and it was not a decision that any man could take lightly, much less him. There would be far more killing, blood, and death than he would be able to stand, no matter what. The words of three people played themselves over and over in his mind, urging him toward the perfect choice. He had one of three to choose. Any of them would be a gamble. All of them meant certain death.

" _If a civil war starts, it will be hard to fight against the Uchiha. We must think of a strategy. Uchiha used to be our comrades in arms… I want to use words and not power against them. I will think of a strategy. Itachi, try to gain as much time as you can. I will come to the grounds tomorrow to speak with the leaders of the Clan. We can solve this peacefully."_

" _Tomorrow, the Third Hokage will be accompanying my son to our home to meet with all who wish to attend. I can think of no better time to kill him and start our revolution. By this time tomorrow evening, Konoha will be ours. We've done very well, my friends."_

" _Itachi… the Third talked like that, but he will act if the Leaf needs to be protected. That's the way he is. If that happens, even he, as the Hokage, will have to take drastic measures. Whether the war happens or not… once they've tried to make a coup d'etat the Uchiha will necessarily be annihilated, your unknowing little brother included. But by acting before it happens, he can still be saved. If the coup happens, your younger brother will see everything, too. He will see his whole clan be destroyed by a Shinobi of the Leaf and will unmistakably want to get revenge on the Village. And in that case, he will have to be killed, too."_

" _Are you threatening…?"_

" _No…I want you to choose. You can either stand on the Uchiha's side, participate in the coup and be destroyed together with your clan… or stand on the Leaf's side, save your brother before the coup happens and help destroy the Uchiha clan."_

Within the house beneath his feet was the one person in his world that he trusted. His troubled thoughts had led him here because he needed answers, and he didn't quite trust himself to make the right choice. He would move the earth and stars to make sure Sasuke lived a long and happy life, even if it meant his own reputation or life. A Shinobi was not supposed to let his emotions rule his actions, and Itachi was the  _perfect_  Shinobi. In this particular instance, though, he knew he could not think clearly. Sasuke's safety was foremost in his mind. It was clouding his judgment.

He stood and inhaled a deep breath. It did absolutely nothing to settle his nerves. It couldn't be helped, though. He dropped to the ground in front of the front door. Even then, he hesitated. He placed a hand on the doorknob, so gently that it didn't make a sound. He stared at the painted dark blue wood and at the Uchiha fan symbol emblazoned there. If he shared his thoughts with anyone at this point, it could be the end of him. He really shouldn't trust anyone, least of all this person.

He released the doorknob and turned, ready to leave. He should not have come here. He took a step away from the dark blue door and the person inside. He would make it through this decision on his own.

" _I am not a ninja like you. I don't give a damn about any of that."_

" _You don't understand. Anything I tell you can get you killed whether you're a ninja or not. Two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead." A knife flashed, threatening._

" _As if I could believe that you can actually kill anyone." A wry and knowing smile._

" _I could. A person is not so different from a person-shaped target." Hesitation._

" _A person screams and begs for mercy. A person bleeds." A softer voice, challenging._

" _Aren't you afraid?" Confusion._

" _You won't let me die. You won't let anyone you care about die." A hand grasping his, lowering the knife._

" _And what makes you so sure I care about you?" A frown. A very dangerous frown._

_And then a wink and a sly smirk. She didn't need words._

"Amiko," he whispered to the night air. "I always said I'd protect you, no matter what." His frown softened, his expression serene once again.

He turned back to the door and didn't hesitate. He grasped the knob, twisted, and pushed the door inward. It opened without a sound, for which he was grateful. He knew where he'd find her at this time of the night. As he approached the dining room table, the glow from the candle grew brighter. With the rest of the house dark, there was no way she'd see him coming. He was the stealthiest ninja in all of—

"Itachi, I know you're there," came the amused feminine voice seated at the table. "I was starting to wonder if you were just going to stare at my door all night."

He sighed heavily. This woman continued to surprise and baffle him at every turn. "How did you know?" he asked, sliding into one of the dining room chairs.

She folded the page over on her book and set it down on its cover so he couldn't see what she was reading. He knew very well that she read smutty romance novels, but she was too embarrassed to share that knowledge with him. She grasped her teacup in both hands and settled back in her chair, the blanket draped over her shoulders like a shawl. She smiled at him and winked. "Woman's intuition. What kind of lover would I be if I didn't notice you were around?"

He chose not to answer. For a very long moment, neither of them said anything. Amiko understood his stoicism. She knew that he had a lot on his mind at any given time, and even knew some of what he thought about. So when he came to be with her, she knew that a lot of time it was just to have a quiet place to think. She didn't dare interrupt his thoughts. He would speak when he wished and not a moment before, and she would wait patiently for him to tell her or not. Sometimes, all he wanted was a quick kiss. Sometimes he wanted more than that. Sometimes less.

He took in the sight of her face by the candlelight. How he'd gained the attention of this woman was entirely a mystery to him. She was much older than he at twenty years of age, and had never even tried to be a Shinobi. It wasn't odd at all that she had heard of his existence, though. He was, like it or not, the most talked about ninja in the village. At thirteen years old, he had accomplished things beyond imagining. He'd graduated the academy in record time, mastered the Sharingan at eight years old, and, most recently and notably, become a captain in the ANBU black ops. It wasn't that she had heard of him that surprised him; it was that she had chosen him at all. Amiko was a gentle woman. She cared for her own garden of flowers and herbs and looked after some of the village's smallest children while their parents were working or training. She could fix clothes or torn flesh with the same delicacy, hated any kind of violence whatsoever, and shunned the Shinobi way. He was a perfectly honed weapon who exuded violence from his every pore and could kill a person just by twitching his littlest finger.

And yet, she'd seen him, sought him out, and seduced him. It wasn't that difficult. She was a balm to his senses, everything that he was not. His life was steeped in blood, death, and danger. He tried to please his father while he shared all of his father's secrets with the village elders, and he tried to please the Hokage while he divulged some of that secret information, too. Every day he fell asleep wondering if he'd slipped up somewhere along the way and might be killed. Some nights he didn't even sleep for fear that he'd missed something incredibly important. He trained mercilessly, wanting to be ready for anything, running himself to the point of exhaustion and beyond. If needed, he would be honed and ready, the perfect killing machine, able to suppress all of his emotions and fears to deal out death in spades.

He was sharp edges and deadly intent. She was soft curves and smiles. Knives and murder versus laughter and healing. A smile… a caress… some gentle words and soft hands, and he was hopelessly addicted. She'd coaxed his inexperienced body into bed and shown him heaven, breathed life back into him, and worst of all, given him hope. No matter how bad the outside world had become, within these walls, he could believe that he'd get through it intact, and that everyone would move on toward a peaceful future without any more bloodshed.

As they sat at the dining room table where she sipped her favorite rosehip tea, he lost himself in her soft grey eyes. Finally, his nerves relaxed, and he took a deep breath. "I need to ask you something, and I need you to understand and accept that there is a very high probability that you will be killed before I can agree to tell you any details."

She smirked. "This again? Every time it's 'If I tell you they will kill you.' I already told you that I don't fear death. And besides, you said you'd protect me. You Shinobi are  _so_  uptight about your secret information." She sipped at her tea, her eyebrows raised with merriment.

He didn't return the smile, though. He raised his hands palms up, staring at the naked weapons that they were. He frowned at them, considering the possibilities of all of his options. "What if… what if it were me that you needed to be protected from?"

Her eyes widened slightly, purely innocent. "I'm not sure I get what you're saying, Itachi. Why would you want to hurt me?" He didn't answer right away. She uncharacteristically lost a little of her patience. It was a sensitive question. "Itachi?"

"Amiko…" he turned his black eyes to her, and in them she read all of his pain and conflict. She fell silent again and waited, her tea now growing cold in her hands. "If I tell you everything, they will want to kill you if they know. Do you still want to know?" Wordlessly, she nodded. He heaved a heavy sigh, and when he said it, he averted his eyes. "The Uchiha clan is planning to seize control of Konoha." She gasped, one slight hand instinctively covering her mouth. "The Hokage means to try to talk to my father and the other leaders of the clan tomorrow. He is hoping we can compromise. On the other hand, my father is planning to assassinate the Hokage when he arrives tomorrow." She gasped again. "I've been offered another option, too." He tore his eyes away, unable to look at her as he said it. "I can eliminate the clan… in exchange for Sasuke's protection."

"Eliminate… you mean everybody?" Her voice rose to a squeak. He nodded, tortured, unable to meet her eyes again. "Even me?"

Tears welled in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat and refused to emit. Amiko sighed. They didn't speak for several minutes. Finally, Amiko seemed to realize that her tea was cold, and she rose to brew more. She took the candle with her, and Itachi couldn't help but notice how cold and empty the space felt with her gone, even though she was only in the next room, and he could hear her busying herself with another pot of tea.

By the time she sat back down, he had regained composure. "I need you to understand these three decisions, so I'm just going to talk. Please just listen, and when I am done, can you let me know which course of action you think is best?" She nodded and set the tea down on the table. He reached across to pour it for her, but she motioned with her hand to stop him and poured it herself. It steamed by the light of the candle, but she didn't drink it. He continued. "If I go with the Hokage and attempt to compromise, there is the chance that we can come to some sort of agreement, and stop the fighting before it begins. Perhaps peace can be restored. However, if we do that, there is an even greater chance that the Hokage will be slain, and if that happens, the Uchiha will take control of Konoha and thrust the Village into a civil war, and it's very possible that other neighboring ninja villages will grasp the opportunity to attack while we're weak. What is attractive about the third choice though is that if I kill everyone here, the village would be safe, there'd be no war, and Sasuke would live. And, I might get a chance to spy on an enemy faction as a rogue ninja." He tried to catch her eyes then. "Amiko," he urged, his voice low and insistent, "whatever you ask of me, I will do, so long as Sasuke is protected."

He watched her. She was sipping her tea now. She noticed him watching her and seemed to take it as the signal that she should offer an opinion now. "What are the chances," she asked instead, so quietly he had to strain to hear her, "that your father and the others would be willing to make peace?"

She had ignored his romantic notion to run away together… and she had probably done it for his sake, knowing that he didn't really consider that an option. He exhaled a long sigh. "Absolutely none. They've been talking about this day for years. You should have seen the look on my father's face when I told him that the Hokage wanted to meet with him here personally, tomorrow. He was excited, and bloodthirsty. He really wants this." His shoulders slumped, defeated.

She smiled sadly. "I was afraid of that. It sounds to me like you already have your choice made, my love," she whispered. "You've always loved Sasuke more than me." He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "Don't deny it, Itachi. You've never lied to me before. Don't start now." It was true. There were things he'd never told her, but he never lied to this woman.

She stood so fast that it actually made him a little gun shy. He braced his hands on the table, prepared to leap out of the chair if need be, but he relaxed when he saw her smile. She arranged herself in his lap and planted her soft lips on his. "My little Shinobi," she cooed. "I've loved you more than any man twice your age. You're really extraordinary, you know that?" She rested her head against his chest. Despite her age, she was a very small woman, and easily fit into his lap.

He brought his fingertips to his mouth. His lips felt numb from hers. He realized with a shock what she'd just told him. She actually wanted him to go through with killing his clan! "Amiko," he whispered to the top of her head. "How can you be okay with letting me kill you? Don't you realize what you're asking?" He squeezed her tight in his arms. His chest hurt. He didn't want to let her go, not now or ever.

"Itachi," she mumbled. "For a genius, you're a real idiot. I'm already dead. I'd  _never_  let you kill me. You'd hate yourself too much. And I certainly… am not… asking…" She struggled with the last sentence, panting.

And then, all of her breath escaped her, and he realized with a shock what had just happened. He licked his lips, his tongue instantly paralyzed. His gaze drifted to the teacup, still steaming. He dragged it closer to him and inhaled. The vapors burned his nostrils. He didn't recognize the component that had poisoned her, but with her knowledge of plants, he was sure she knew what she was doing.  _I'd never let you kill me._ "Oh, Amiko," he choked, realizing that she'd killed herself just to spare him the burden of being responsible for her death. How wrong she was. Even if it was not his hand that had slain her, it was still his actions that led to her death. She had also forced his hand. Her sacrifice had decided his fate, for he would never let her life be wasted. He squeezed her lifeless body even harder to his chest. His breath of heaven had been extinguished. Every day from this day forward was destined to be his own private hell.

He kissed her forehead. It was slick with cold sweat and the tears that had abandoned him for her. Then he stood, lifting her as he did so. She didn't weigh very much. He carried her to the bed that they had shared so many times, lost to passion. He laid her down on the coverlet, then went downstairs to retrieve her things. He grabbed the candle, the book, the blanket, and even the cup of tea, then returned to her side. He covered her to the chin with the blanket. It was an afghan that she had crocheted herself in red, black, and white. Then he set the candle and the tea down on her nightstand. Finally, he went to set the book down, but the cover caught his eye. _Justine_ was written on the front in gold lettering. Momentarily intrigued, he read the summary on the back page. He smiled wryly, thinking of his gentle Amiko reading such a book, then set it down on her chest beneath one hand, staging her so it appeared as if she'd merely fallen asleep.

He kissed her forehead one more time, his final farewell to the only woman he had ever loved and would ever love in his lifetime. He was too young for any of this; too young for love and sex, too young to be so entrenched in the violence, and certainly too young for what would inevitably come next. He trained his eyes on Amiko's lifeless face, mentally shutting down his emotions as he had been trained to do. Love, concern, sorrow, fear, apprehension… All of these, he suppressed until he could lay his eyes upon her pale face and feel nothing.

His heart dead in his chest, face damp from the tears, he left Amiko's house for the last time, drawing his sword.

Seemingly as if from nowhere, a shadow dropped in front of the moon, landing between Itachi and his clan members. He recognized the man immediately. His orange swirled mask with a single eyehole was a dead ringer. "Madara," he greeted tonelessly.

"Itachi," the man intoned, his deep voice resonating on the night air. This man had two guises; the other one was an idiot named Tobi, which he was using to throw off members of his organization, Akatsuki, making them think he was nothing to be concerned about. If Itachi had been a betting man, he'd gamble that, if he hadn't discovered the man skulking about the Leaf Village even he would not know his secret. "I wasn't aware you had feelings," the man joked.

"It's nothing that concerns you," Itachi shot back. "You wanted the destruction of the Uchiha clan. I'm ready. This happens tonight." He gripped the handle of his sword more tightly, wishing Madara would just step out of his way. If he waited any longer, his resolve was going to crack from overthinking it. This had been their plan all along; Itachi had met him some time back, and they'd agreed that if Itachi helped Madara get his revenge on the Uchiha clan for turning their backs on him, then he would leave the Leaf Village well enough alone. Itachi had been privately hoping that there was some way to get out of that, too, but it had always been an unfortunate possibility that he would actually have to eliminate the clan. Luckily, he'd managed to make the same deal with both devils in regards to the safety of the Leaf Village and his little brother. The price to each was the same: the Uchiha must die.

Itachi couldn't see it, but beneath the mask, the man called Tobi was smiling. "Yes, I do want that. Are you sure you are ready? They are your family after all."

Itachi rolled his eyes up to look at the moon. It was the same moon that anyone in the village could be looking at, thinking only thoughts of peace and quiet. Perhaps his mother, even… but no, he couldn't think like that. Not tonight. "Just remember our agreement. My parents are not for you, and Konoha and Sasuke are left in peace. You'll have your revenge. I'll do my part, but if I find that you aren't willing to do yours…" He left the threat hanging on the air, tension sparking.

The glinting red eye narrowed through the eyehole. "Don't underestimate me, Itachi Uchiha. You don't know what I am capable of. You'd be a fool to think you can so easily kill me."

His eyes returned to this man, his tentative ally and permanent enemy. When his two eyes locked on the one, they were shining a deadly red as well. "Don't underestimate me, either. One thing here is certain and that is that you also do not know of what I am capable, particularly when it comes to my little brother. The weakest strength stems from the anger of revenge. The strongest Shinobi fight for those they love."

They locked eyes for moments that stretched, sizing each other up. If it came down to a fight, it would be devastating, that was for sure. Finally, Madara averted his gaze. "Don't let me down, Itachi. Remember the score. If you destroy the rest of the Uchiha minus Sasuke, I partner you with my favorite member of Akatsuki and allow you to be part of my Moon's Eye Plan."

"Yeah, I remember," he answered, and brushed past Madara, rudely bumping shoulders. "I'll meet you when I feel like it, outside the border of Fire Country. I don't want to see you before then."

Laughter answered his back as he kept striding away. "Time to grieve, for the cold and merciless clan killer? It's poetic."

Itachi didn't dignify him with a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you had any trouble with those "three voices" speaking to Itachi at the beginning of the chapter, two are canon and one is not. The first voice was that of the Hokage (though I added the very last bit of it). The second was Itachi's father, obviously (not canon), and the third was Danzo (canon, word for word).
> 
> Also, there's some discrepancy about Itachi's age at the time of the Uchiha massacre. Personally, I think he'd be about fourteen before he got to the actual Kill-the-Uchiha mission, but when I researched it, most fans seem to agree that he's about thirteen for that, too (he was made captain of ANBU at thirteen, but that's the only clue we have to go on). For the purposes of the story, I'm going with he's thirteen.
> 
> ***Justine is a novel by the Marquis de Sade


	2. Runaways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 day after the Uchiha Massacre.

He would always remember that night. It was sure to haunt his nightmares for every night onward. He could still feel the blade grind its way through his mother. He still felt the warm splash of her blood on his face, smelled the copper tang of it in his nostrils. He could still see the anguish in his father's eyes, barely concealed by the heart wrenching, disgusting pride that was there, too. He'd never forget the way his little brother had looked at him. And oh! The  _hateful_   _things_  that he had said to make his little brother hate him! Every word of it cut a scar across his heart. All he saw in Sasuke's face was pure, cold terror, from a face that he'd only ever seen sullenly pouting or smiling or scowling (because he thought he was  _supposed_  to scowl). Sasuke should only ever have known happiness and the carefree play of a boy his age. From now on, he'd only know hatred and revenge.

And it was  _his_  fault.

Part of him wanted to believe he'd done the right thing. After all, if it weren't for the Uchiha massacre, all of Konoha would be endangered. His clan would have tried to overthrow the leadership of the village, and the whole world would have escalated into an all out war in which they might all be dead. In his mind, he knew he'd saved the lives of hundreds, if not thousands, of children just like Sasuke.

In his heart, he was screaming. For the short time it had taken him to steal through the shadows and slaughter every last member of the Uchiha Clan, saving his own immediate family for last, he had been merciless, cold and unfeeling. He suppressed all of his emotions to do what was necessary. He had even tried to suppress his love for his mother and father before he'd had to kill them, too, but in that department he still had weakness. He'd wept before he'd killed them. His emotions had unfurled at the edges, and before long he'd been shaking with grief. He'd only managed to hold onto the façade, barely, when Sasuke had burst into the scene. That should never have happened.

He saw the raw fright in Sasuke's eyes, and all of his emotions came crashing back to earth, breaking to a head behind his eyes. Outwardly, he was deadly calm, but inside he was a tempest. When he saw the stricken look on that little boy's face, he felt ashamed. He had just ripped Sasuke's entire world apart with the sword in his hand to save Konoha, and yet… when Sasuke lay there in shock, drooling on the floorboards at the scene of their parents' death, he realized something too important too late: Sasuke meant more to him than even his beloved Village Hidden in the Leaves. Belatedly, he determined to rectify this situation if it took him the rest of his life. Somehow, someday, he was going to make things right with his little brother, but for now…

" _Foolish little brother, if you wish to kill me, hate me, detest me, and survive in an unsightly way. Foster your hatred. Run, run and cling to your wretched life. And one day, when you have the same eyes as I do, come before me."_ He had said that; he hoped that Sasuke would use that moment to become strong. Sasuke had pursued him for a short ways, but when he'd finally collapsed from being overwhelmed, Itachi had taken the opportunity to escape. As soon as he was out of eyeshot, he ran.

He simply ran. He didn't stop to think about where he was heading, just made a mad dash toward the moon as soon as he'd cleared the wall of the village. He had no concept of how far or how long he had gone, but at some point, his heart overwhelmed his feet and he tripped on them, sprawling out across the grass. It was an ungraceful moment for Itachi; the only one he was ever like to have in his life. He'd been the perfect ninja from start to finish, and to any's knowledge, had never made a single mistake in his progression. He'd been a genin at seven, mastered the Sharingan at eight, become a chunin at ten (before most even made genin), and an ANBU captain at thirteen. None of that mattered at all. He was but a broken boy with his face in the dirt, grieving the family he'd destroyed and the gentle woman who had sacrificed herself to protect him from himself. He didn't even bother to pick himself up off the ground. The dam finally broke, and the tears came, mixing with the dust and making muddy patches on his face.

Now he was a missing-nin at thirteen, too.

If anyone had seen him there, faceplanted in the dirt, they would have been shocked. As a ninja, he had always had perfect composure and a flawless uniform. He had never batted an eyelash at the tasks he had been assigned, and his form was perfect enough that he didn't usually suffer dirt or stains. And yet, here he was, face first in the dust of Konoha, mewling like a lost kitten for its mother.

_Mother…!_ Her eyes were not near so accepting as his father's. She was a strong woman, Mikoto Uchiha. She had had to be, to survive his stern, harsh father. But nothing prepares a mother for her own death by her son's hand. He had seen the war behind her eyes as she struggled to come to terms with her death by Itachi's sword, all the while grieving his lost innocence, begging him for mercy, lamenting Sasuke's fate of vengeance, and generally fearing  _him_. She did not want to die, and she did not want for him to be the one to kill her. He saw all of that in her dark eyes, and he had cut her down anyway.

But even then, he wasn't sure if that hurt more or less than the naked pride in his father's eyes. He almost felt that Fugaku Uchiha was congratulating him for a game well played, as if any moment he would emerge from the shadows and clap him on the shoulder. Perhaps he would say, "I'm proud of you, my son. You truly are the pride of the clan." Perhaps his father would finally smile and  _mean_  it.  _"Itachi… Promise me that you will take care of Sasuke. Don't hesitate. It's the path you chose. Our pain will only last an instant, unlike yours… The way we think is different, but I'm still proud of you."_  He heard the words that he did not say:  _It is not for me that I grieve._

But nothing, absolutely nothing cut deeper than the fear in Sasuke's young face, all traces of innocence robbed forever. Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha had known, to some degree. They had considered the possibility that he might have to do something as drastic as eliminate the Uchiha Clan, but not a soul had prepared Sasuke for that possibility. The poor boy had simply come home late from training to find everyone dead. He'd stumbled upon the slaughtered corpses of their parents, and nearly pissed himself when he realized that the man who had killed them was still in the room. Worse yet was the shock and hurt that ghosted across his features when he realized just who it was. It had killed Itachi's soul a piece at a time to cast the genjutsu on his little brother to provide a terrible lie about how their parents had perished. It had hurt him worse to tell Sasuke that he was useless and pathetic and had never meant anything to him at all. And then, he felt his heart tear to shreds as Sasuke worked up the courage to throw weapons at him to avenge their parents, and though he was proud of his little brother, it hurt more than it should have that he had actually tried to kill him.

And so, on a lovely summer evening in Konoha, the pride and destruction of the mighty Uchiha Clan lay facedown in an anonymous patch of dust, shattered in ways no Shinobi could ever have caused in places invisible to the eye. Some wounds did not have to bleed to be fatal.

Time. Place. Death. Did any of it matter anymore?

* * *

Not very far away in another household, two young girls were up past their bedtime. One of them was even out of her bed. Stretched out between the bookcase, the desk, and the bed was a tangle of blankets and sheets, and beneath the blankets was a pile of cushions and pillows. Upon the pillows were two little girls, ages three and eight, and a borrowed flashlight to cast a light between them.

"I love blanket forts!" exclaimed Hinata, kneeling upon the cushions and placing a shoebox in between herself and her sister. "And you're the best little sister ever for helping me build it!"

Hanabi giggled and smiled. "So cool! We should live in here!" She threw her arms up into the air, indicating the large space beneath the blankets.

Hinata shushed her toddler sister. "Shh, silly goose. Not so loud! If Daddy finds out you snuck out of your room and into mine he'll have kittens!"

Hanabi's eyes widened with innocent curiosity. "Kittens? Really?" She loved kittens.

Hinata couldn't help but laugh. "No! It's a figure of speech."

Hanabi crooked an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, much like a kitten herself. "What's figger the peach?"

"A  _figure_  of  _speech_ , not  _peach_. It means a thing you say that isn't  _really_  true." She shook her head. Grown up words were for grown ups, and none of that truly mattered. "Nevermind. Look what I brought!" She upended the shoebox, and dozens of shiny metal and glass beads spilled out all over the floor. From her pockets, she added rolls of tangled chains, cords, strings, and ribbons.

Hanabi cried out with delight, running her fingers through all of the beads. "So pretty!"

Hinata smiled at her younger sister. She loved playing with the little girl. Every tiny detail made Hanabi smile, giggle, and laugh. She was never an upset child, always curious and playful. Sometimes, their father was extraordinarily tough on Hinata, and Hanabi was her one singular source of joy. Playtime with Hanabi made everything else worth it. "Watch, now. Let me show you what to do." She cut a piece of dark purple ribbon with safety scissors. They were so dull that it took several tries, and the ribbon was frayed but serviceable as a result. Then, with her tongue stuck out in concentration, she poked the end of the ribbon through a pearly colored white bead. She smiled, satisfied with her handiwork. "There. See?" She held up the ribbon, where the bead held fast.

Hanabi's eyes widened with realization. "Ohhh! I wanna try!" Hinata cut off a piece of black ribbon, and both girls happily started beading projects. Before long, a pile had grown between them of necklaces, bracelets, and random unfinished strings where the girls had wanted to do something new before they were finished.

"All of yours are so pretty!" Hinata exclaimed, inspecting her sister's projects. Each of the girls had very different tastes. Hinata was favoring floral colors: pink, yellow, purple, red, and white. Hanabi was inclined toward dark or earthy colors: black, brown, green, blue, orange. Both Hyuuga daughters were delighted with their creations and admired the other's, and by the end of it, they dissolved in fits of giggles as they tried to wear them all. Finally, Hinata went hunting through all of her treasures and held a necklace aloft. It was a black cord decorated with beautiful purple and blue and white glass beads. "I like this one best, so I'm going to give it to Mommy!"

"Oh, then I want to give one to Father!" Hanabi exclaimed, digging through her pile, too. It took her much longer to find what she considered her favorite. To her young mind, this was a very serious decision, and she wanted to be sure it was her absolute best. She laid out a few options side by side so she could see, her face a darling frown as she concentrated. She removed them from the line up one by one until she was left with the ultimate necklace. "I like this one the best!"

"Excellent choice, Hanabi!" Hinata congratulated her. "Tomorrow we'll give them to Mommy and Daddy!"

They smiled at each other and hugged tight, happy with their jewelry and their choices. Then, as she was wont to do, Hinata dug into Hanabi's sides with her fingertips and started tickling. The little girl squealed and howled with laugher, unable to contain herself. "Hinata! Stop it! Stop! It's too funny!"

Hinata replied by giggling and shrieking and yelling "Tickle tickle tickle!" The poor victimized Hanabi tried desperately to protect herself from the Tickle Monster and made a feeble attempt at tickling back.

And suddenly the door creaked open and the light clicked on. Hinata immediately ceased the tickling, the suddenness of which made Hanabi drop to the ground with an unceremonious thud and a comical "oomph!" Then, she tossed a pillow over the pile of beads to hide the surprise. The flap of the blanket fort flung aside, revealing the displeased look of their father, Hiashi Hyuuga. "Blankets and pillows are for sleeping, not hiding," he scolded. "Take this down at once," he said, looking at Hinata.

She lowered her eyes with respect and hastened a response. "Yes, Father."

He turned his gaze to the younger daughter, and his gaze softened somewhat. "And Hanabi, back to bed. You should have been asleep hours ago."

She grinned, unaccustomed to being scolded and not sure how to react. Nothing ever seemed to bother her. "Yes, Father!" she answered enthusiastically, clutching the necklace in the folds of her dressing gown and scrambling out of their fort.

"Oh, and Hanabi," he added, "tomorrow we're going to begin your training. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes, Father!" She danced and skipped down the hall to her own room, and Hinata heard the door shut behind her.

Hinata's heart fell. She had not started her own training until she was five years old, and she already hated every minute of it. Her father was very strict and pushed her to her limits on a daily basis. She much preferred to play with her sister than spar with her father. What really bothered her, though, was thinking about her sister enduring their father's harsh tutelage. She never wanted to see Hanabi upset. The little girl's resilient happiness was Hinata's favorite thing in the whole world.

Satisfied that Hanabi was in bed, Hiashi made his retreat. "Tear down these blankets and get back into bed. I'll see you in the morning, too."

She hesitated, too many thoughts assaulting her at once, before she murmured, "Yes, Father," and began tearing down their blanket fort. If she was also training in the morning, it probably meant that neither of them was going to like the training. She was already dreading morning.

Were she older, she probably would have been unable to sleep for concern. She was only eight, though. With the exhaustion of playing with Hanabi coupled to the boredom of lying alone in bed, Hinata was soon asleep.

Hanabi woke still clutching her favorite necklace. She was more than happy to see it again, and waved it in front of her face, enjoying the way the sunlight glinted off the pieces on the cord. "Pretty!" she exclaimed, admiring her work.

A knock sounded on the wood of her door. Hastily, she hid the necklace, not wanting to spoil the surprise. "Who is it?" she called. Her father was very strict when it came to manners and protocol. He always knocked, and she was always to ask who was at the door. She was never to just say, "come in," just so as to make sure that her visitor was friendly.

"It's your father," Hiashi called from the outside. "Dress yourself and meet us in the dining room for breakfast."

"Yes Father!" she answered automatically. She was enthusiastic for her first day of training. Hinata didn't seem to like training very much, but after observing that her and her sister enjoyed different colors, and knowing things like that Hinata liked flowers while she liked bugs, she figured it was only because Hinata didn't like training because she just didn't enjoy it. Perhaps she would enjoy it. After all, her father seemed to enjoy his training, and she had heard lots of stories about heroic Shinobi. She wanted to be a ninja, she was sure of it.

Humming a song to herself that had absolutely no melody, she dressed in comfortable clothes and tucked her favorite necklace into a secret pocket on the inside of her shirt. "Yay it's training time!" she sang to herself. "Off to breakfast I go! Future ninja coming through!"

She climbed up into her chair at the table where Hinata was forlornly poking at her toast, one lip stuck out in defiance of the toasted bread. Hinata did not like toast. "Eat your toast, Hinata. It has carbohydrates that are good for stamina," Hiashi informed her patiently.

"I hate toast," she muttered.

"You must never say things like that at the table. It's rude," he scolded.

Hanabi stared at her breakfast. There was oatmeal, toast, and a glass of milk. All in all, not half as exciting as banana pancakes and orange juice. She wrinkled her nose. "Where my pancakes at?" she pouted.

"Where are my pancakes, not where my pancakes at," Hiashi corrected. "You're training to be a ninja, now, my daughter. That means you need to feed your body right." He closed his eyes as he sawed through a sausage.

"My body like pancakes," she said stubbornly, crossing her arms. "With nanner-banners." She pouted, the spitting image of her elder sister.

"You can have pancakes when you are not in training. For today you will eat what is there."

"But—" She wilted when Hiashi gave her  _that look_. That was the authority glare that you just did not argue with. "Fiiiiine," she relented, stabbing a spoon into her oatmeal.

"I knew you'd agree," Hiashi said, bemused. "Hinata, eat your toast."

The three of them wore different expressions as they arrived at the dojo. Hanabi was barely able to contain her glee. She had eaten the dreaded oatmeal and toast, and though she had long ago decided she hated milk, she had braved that as well, with the logic that it might just be a magical potion in disguise. The moment she had waited for was here! She was going to take that first doddering step toward becoming a fierce and mighty ninja. Hinata's face was glum and troubled. There was never a day of training with her father that she left feeling better about herself and happy. Training days were days to dread, and she already knew that she was going to feel like a failure before the day was over. Hiashi's face was set in a determined line. Training days were very important to him because he was furthering the progress of his noble daughters on their paths to becoming great Shinobi, ones that would bring honor to their household. This was something he took great pride in doing, but there was no joy or sorrow for him here, just hard work.

"Alright, Hanabi, Hinata," Hiashi began. "This is Hanabi's first day of ninja training. What I want to do for today is just a short exercise. I want you two to fight each other so I can get see where her affinities are, and on which target areas we should focus."

Hinata nodded. "Yes, Father," she replied, resigned. This was not something she had looked forward to, but she had guessed it would happen eventually. Since she and her sister were relatively close in age, they would be good practice partners for the whole of their lives.

Hanabi had never even guessed that this was ever an option. Her eyes were wide with horror. "I will  _not_  fight Hinata! I love her!" She turned pleading looks from her father to her sister and back again. Hinata, for her part, was already in position, ready to face off.

Her father had anticipated the resistance. "If you love your sister, then this will help her. If you fight each other, you can help each other to become stronger so you can both protect each other." Hinata nodded to her sister to let her know that it was all right. Her father was correct on this point.

Hanabi was not convinced. "Mommy says that if you love someone, you don't hit them." She stomped her little foot, put her hands on her tiny hips and thrust her bottom lip out in the mother of all pouts.

Hiashi was disappointed. "Hanabi, ninja fight each other all the time. I thought you were strong enough to be a ninja? If you don't fight with Hinata, I will be very ashamed."

Her eyes welled with tears. She looked again between her sister and her father. Both of them wanted her to fight Hinata. Just last night, her elder sister and she had giggled and tickled together and made the most beautiful necklaces, and now today they wanted her to punch her best friend in the face? It was too much for her. The tears spilled over, and she dashed out the door and ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go easy on my toddler writing. It's been a long time since I have been three years old. The thing working in my favor here, though, is that our beloved author Kishimoto has really pushed back how far a person becomes a ninja (six years old? Really?!) which means I can safely assume that Shinobi children mature a lot faster than normal children. Anyway. My story and I can assume what I wanna.


	3. The Color of One's Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day after the Uchiha Massacre

Hot tears poured down her face as she dashed out of one of the smaller gates of the Hyuuga grounds, crossed the short distance between that gate and the wall of Konoha, and squeezed out of the vicinity through an overlooked crack in the wall. As soon as she wriggled free of the crumbling stone, she pealed off into the woods, blind to any danger whatsoever, only concerned with the painful situation at home.

 _How can they ask me to hit Hinata?_ Her young mind wondered. It was a foreign concept to the toddler. Her elder sister was her light in life. She loved Hinata with all of her tiny little heart. Her sister was good, kind, and gentle. Now that she had been in the room with her sister and her father during training, she had trouble connecting the concept of being a Shinobi with Hinata at all, and it made her very frustrated and confused.  _It's not fair!_  Her mind screamed.  _It's not fair that we need to fight each other when we're such good friends!_

Trees blurred past through a foggy haze of tears. Birds scattered, undisturbed for years as the tiny Hyuuga crashed through the trees like a maniac, howling like she'd been wounded. To her, she had been wounded. Life had been so much simpler yesterday. She'd never had a care in the world beyond what she should play next with Hinata. It had been flowers, dolls, beads, and blanket forts. Sometimes, Hinata would read her stories of brave and mighty ninja who had saved the world and protected princesses.

 _I won't do it! I just won't! I will run away from home and then Father will be sorry and Hinata… Hinata… she will…_  Suddenly, Hanabi stopped running, realizing something important. If she ran away from home, she'd never get to play with Hinata ever again. She stood still, pouting, torn between the two decisions. If she went back, her father would make her hit Hinata again. He'd be disappointed because she couldn't do it, and Hinata would have that look on her face like she didn't want to get hit either but knew she had to. If she ran away from home, she could do whatever she wanted, and she'd never have to hit her sister. But there would be no banana pancakes or flowers, nor blanket forts or necklaces.

That reminded her. She pulled the necklace out of her pocket and stared at it. She had intended to give it to her father, but now she didn't think he even deserved it. She glared at it, squeezing it tight in her fist, and raised it high as if to throw it. It made her so angry to think that her father could be so mean! But then, she lowered her balled up little fist, and stared at it again. She had really enjoyed making that necklace with Hinata, and now that she looked at it again, she remembered why she had liked it so much. She changed her mind and decided to give it to Hinata, and tucked it back into her pocket.

Thinking of Hinata had calmed her anger, so she decided she ought to go home. She looked around, trying to remember from which direction she had come. There were trees. She swung her head from side to side, trying to make sense of navigation. There were more trees. The sun was high in the sky by now, with no indication of east or west, even had she known how to gauge such a thing. There were trees, and trees, and trees. Panic rose in her heart like a finger of dread. She started walking just because she knew she had to or risk being lost forever. No one would think to look for her out here past the walls of Konoha.

She wrapped one hand around the necklace in her pocket. The other hand she placed gently over her fluttering heart, trying to calm her nerves. At three years old, she wasn't keen on directions or strategies that might get her discovered. Her mind comprehended two things: she needed to go home, and she was very scared she might never make it. She did manage to remain brave enough not to cry, though.

She zigged and zagged, unsure of any better way to attempt to find the Leaf Village. She locked her eyes on anything that looked out of the ordinary in the sea of trees. Here there was a lightning-struck tree, there was a large rock, and over in that direction was a larger clearing than usual. She kept moving, lest she just stand there freaking out. Little did she know, she was actually headed further and further away from the Leaf Village.

And nearer and nearer to its newest criminal.

She didn't see him until she had nearly tripped on him. At first she had thought he might be a weird, greyish purple log, and so she steered her course toward his form lying on the ground. It wasn't until she was practically standing over him that she realized it was a person. She squeaked out a frightened  _eep_  and took an involuntary step backward, one hand still clutching her frantic heart while the other stayed wrapped around the necklace in her pocket like a worry stone. She stared, rooted to the spot, waiting for any signs of life. He didn't seem to be moving. His breathing was shallow enough that she didn't really notice it at all. He was much bigger than she was, and that made her a bit nervous. What if he wasn't friendly?

Everything she had been taught in the Hyuuga household told her that she should not try to talk to this person. She was taught never to speak to strangers unless her father was present. She was taught never to trust a stranger under any circumstances. She definitely was not supposed to go near him alone. And yet, she was so frightened that she might never get to see her sister Hinata ever again that she took a blind leap of faith and disobeyed her father. "Um, hello?" she asked uncertainly, her voice sounding small even to herself. He didn't move. She crouched down beside him, eyes wide and scared, and poked him with her necklace hand, leaving her treasure safe in its pocket. "Hello? Hello there?" He began to stir but didn't wake. She heard a soft groan, so she poked him even harder, more incessantly. "Hello? Are you okay?"

He groaned and turned his head to the side. Hanabi liked his face immediately. She knew just by looking at him that he was older than her sister but younger than her father, but he couldn't have been that old. He had lines running down his cheeks that made him look a little like a deer. She loved deer. She saw pictures of them in stories and always wanted to ride one or pet it or have it as a pet or all of those things. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes. They were black, just like a deer's were, but that wasn't what made all of her fears run away.

His eyes were full of pain and sadness.

Hanabi had been a child of pure joy, but since she was the youngest member of a huge household filled with so many people, she was always looking up at people and watching. Hinata seemed more important than her, so she was often overlooked. She didn't always talk so much. She listened more, and when she listened, she saw things in eyes and in habits, and heard undercurrents in tones that told her that something else was going on. She knew instinctively that when someone snapped at her, it wasn't because she had done something wrong. She knew when her sister was distracted when they were playing, it was not because they weren't having a good time. It was a skill that would probably develop into a major social asset as she grew older, but for now it was enough that she could recognize such things. This man she had found was intensely sad, and she knew just what to do. "Are you okay?" she asked again.

The black eyes widened with surprise and he gasped softly. He quickly rolled up to his elbow, eyes darting fretfully to and fro, looking for an escape. Itachi was wondering if anyone was with her. If he was about to be captured, he was going to put up one hell of a fight first. How long had he been asleep?

She laid one hand gently on his arm, but he batted it away and scrambled backward. She tried to smile at him. "It's okay, see? It's just me. You don't have to be scared anymore."

His eyes trained back on her, and she felt like they saw through her. Then, his expression calmed, and the weirdest thing happened. His black eyes swirled and twisted in his sockets and turned red. She cocked her head to the side and watched, fascinated by the change of events and the pretty color.

Itachi was about to put her in a crippling genjutsu to make a hasty retreat, but her innocent, child's curiosity stopped him. He hesitated, frozen to the spot, heart pounding, simultaneously searching for an escape and locking his gaze on that bright, happy smile. Unlike with Sasuke, he found he was not even able to show her any illusions about pain and death, or any scary images whatsoever. She couldn't have been more than three years old, much younger than Sasuke, and had probably never had a true care in the world besides playtime and sunshine. What was more, she was completely alone, and he had no idea where they were. Casting one last, thorough look over the surroundings to be sure that no one was there, he relaxed and deactivated his Sharingan.

"You have very pretty eyes," the little girl said cheerily. "I like that they change like that. My daddy has eyes that change like that. Well, not really. They go all…" she scrunched up her eyes and did her best impression of a glare. She didn't seem to realize that it also made a couple of tiny veins around her own eyes swell up just a little with her own chakra.

He quirked an eyebrow, realizing whom this little girl must be. If he were a betting kind of man, he'd bet anything that this was the youngest Hyuuga of the Main Family, Hanabi. Next to the Uchiha, the Hyuuga had been Konoha's most powerful clan. He changed the subject. Some things were more important than the color of one's eyes. "Where are we?" he asked her.

She sat on the grass cross-legged and wrapped her fingers around her legs. "I have absolutely no idea!" she exclaimed with too much candor. "But you're a grown up, or at least I think so, so you will know where we are and how to go home." She stared up at him expectantly, waiting for him to know what to do.

Home. The word struck a chord in his soul, and he suddenly remembered with sharp clarity all of the events of the previous evening. He hung his head in shame, but he was still a Shinobi, if a rogue one wanted for mass murder, and he was not about to let all of his emotions show on the immediate surface. He met her eyes again, all sadness erased from his expression. "Do you know how long it took you to get here?" he asked gently. If he knew that, he could probably calculate the distance she had traveled and backtrack…

"Umm…" The little girl's eyes rolled skyward and her lips twisted as she thought about it. She was feeling much more optimistic about her situation now. An adult was here, she thought, so he would make everything better. That was how she understood the world to operate: the adults knew everything there was to know. There was no way he would be confused about how to get her home. At the very least, she needed to believe that this was true so she did not panic. Hope was a tangible thing to a child. Unfortunately, she had not yet developed any sense of time. "Five minutes," she said with a smile.

His lips quirked, threatening to smile. He remembered a time when Sasuke could not tell time, either. Their mother used to tell Sasuke that he had five minutes to finish whatever he was doing, but then twenty minutes later, she'd bother him again. "It hasn't been five minutes yet, Mom!" Sasuke would pout. To Sasuke, there was no block of time that was ever longer than five minutes. Unfortunately, that meant that he had no idea how far he had run or how far Hanabi was from home. No matter. This could easily be solved. "Wait here," he said to her, smiling to reassure her.

"Okay!" she said instantly, not at all perturbed. Her complete faith in him was unsettling. She shouldn't trust him, he thought.

Itachi leapt up into the trees, pushing off branch after branch until he was perched on the very top of the tree. The branches up here were sparse and fragile, but if he kept his center of gravity based over the very middle of the trunk, he would not be in any danger. Besides, he was a ninja. If he fell, he'd be able to stop the descent without any effort at all by grasping branches with chakra. He steadied himself in the treetops and gazed across the land in all directions.

Konoha, it turns out, was not that far away. Judging by the distance, he estimated it to be about a half mile from where they were now. Satisfied, he dropped out of the trees, landing on his toes gracefully in front of the tiny Hyuuga.

Having spent a moment away from her, he could now appraise her with fresh, unpanicked eyes. She gazed up at him with pure, blind faith, and he felt his heart glaze over with warmth. Itachi had always been a gentle soul, but he had a secret Achilles' Heel for children. Staring into her oblivious and hopeful eyes, suddenly all of his Shinobi training to ignore emotions and be ready to kill at a moment's notice vanished entirely. He held out his arms in the universal signal for "hug me" and gave her his most winning smile, a smile that he hadn't use since he was about her age. His father and the Shinobi who had been his superiors cared little for smiles.

Any child recognizes that signal. Hanabi surely did. She leapt right into his arms. Something about this soft-featured young man had also made her ignore all of her education to avoid strangers. For her, it had all come through his eyes. He had deeply sad eyes, and she knew instinctively that he needed her just as much as she needed him. She hugged him fiercely and whispered into his ear, "Don't be sad. Everything will be okay."

His eyes widened at the sound. How had she managed to see right through him? He pulled her gently away from his body and stared right into her eyes. Something needed to be cleared right away. He didn't want to ruin this poor child's life, after all. He tried to let all of his darkness surface to his features. If she could see his sadness, she'd see that, too. He didn't want her to inadvertently love him if it meant she'd get hurt in the process. He grasped her shoulders gently and delved into her eyes without the Sharingan. "Look into my eyes, child. Do you know who I am?"

Her wide, pale eyes stared into his dark ones, trying to do as she was told. She stared and stared into the depths of his black eyes. "I don't know who you are. I'm Hanabi. What's your name?" Her heart fluttered a little at the intensity of his stare. She saw the darkness, but it didn't tell her his name, and didn't change the softness and the warmth of his hug. It was a very good hug.

He sighed and shut his eyes. This was not going to be fair to her. He understood that someday, he would probably hurt her, but knew already that he needed this contact. Some contact. Any contact. He would give anything to have someone in his life that could know him for who he was and not what he had done. If there was just one person that he could talk to, who could see who he truly was without knowing his name or his reputation, perhaps he could one day find the peace he had yearned for. He felt such an urgent need to know this little girl that his heart ached. He could never know this kind of bond with Sasuke ever again, but perhaps…

No, he couldn't think that way. All he could give to this girl was pain. Best to get her home and forget this encounter had ever happened. "It's not important," he said, crinkling his face into a smile meant to reassure her.

Hanabi, however, was not to be swayed. She saw the change in his expression when he meant to rid himself of her. "Father says it's rude not to give your name when you're asked," she said, proud of herself for sounding firm. "I'm Hanabi. And you are…?"

He sighed. It was exactly like dealing with Sasuke, after all. She was not going to let up until she had gotten her way. What name to give her, then? "Fine. You can call me Koinu. Nice to meet you, Hanabi."

She smiled, pleased with herself. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Koinu." She held out her hand to shake, a parody of the people five times her size that she had seen do it.

He raised an eyebrow, but he shook her tiny little hand. The whole hand fit almost entirely in his palm. Introductions aside, it was time to get the little girl home safely. "Alright, Hanabi. I know where your house is. Ready?"

"Hmmm…" she hummed cheekily. "I don't think I want to go home just yet." Suddenly she remembered why she ran off in the first place. She frowned. "My family was really weird today." She toed the dirt at her feet, her eyes locked onto the tiny piles of sand she was making. Now that she was actually enjoying herself and wasn't lost, she wanted to make it last. She waited, her ears pricked, waiting for him to agree.

Itachi was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I run into this all the time… the spelling of Hyuuga. I just tried to read up on the correct way to spell Hyuga, and there are three: Hyuuga, Hyuga, and Hyuga with the bar over the 'u.' If you've read my other stories, you'll see that I've used both Hyuga and Hyuuga because I'm so flippin' confused. I think from now on I will just stick to Hyuuga, since that is the one I've seen in subtitles the most. If you disagree, too damned bad. There are much better things to worry about in the world than whether or not I need to use one less letter 'u.'


	4. A Child's Gift

Timeline: One day after the Uchiha Massacre

* * *

 

Itachi looked uncertainly between the resistant toddler and the trees in the opposite direction of the village. He really needed to be gone. On the other hand… there were some things in the village he probably should do before he left. He had failed to eliminate every single member of his clan, and some accommodations would need to be made for the massacre's sole survivor. Yes, in fact, there were a few people he needed to talk to first. He supposed a leavetaking could wait. It took a second before the impatience in his feet had calmed enough to match the insolence of his mind, but finally they did, and he relaxed. He smiled at the girl who was suddenly reluctant to go back home. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, pouting. She didn't really want to talk about it. It made her extraordinarily uncomfortable to imagine that her sister was willing to hit her to make her father happy. Furthermore, it scared her that being a ninja might mean hitting other people that she liked. She didn't really like her father right now. It was his fault she'd been introduced to the scary ninja world.

"Okay," he said simply, knowing what would come next. He'd had these types of conversations before with children, specifically Sasuke. His little brother had always wanted to talk. It was just that he was too stubborn to give information when it was wanted of him. He waited.

He didn't have to wait long. "Well," she offered, "it's just that I started training to be a ninja today…" She dragged the sentence out, peeking at him out of the corner of her eye, testing to see if he was actually interested or just humoring her.

So young? Itachi had begun training at an obscenely early age as well, but that was usually rare, even in the Leaf Village. Most parents preferred to let their children experience a real childhood first, to enjoy playtime and dreams before having to be exposed to the harsh reality of being born into the Shinobi world. Most parents believed that childhood was an important part in the development of a well-rounded human being. Itachi's parents were more concerned with creating a weaponized, brainwashed machine by which they could achieve their goals. They were crafting Itachi into the perfect ninja, one who could help lead them into a new age where the Uchiha clan reigned supreme above all others. They had hoped not to let him experience naivete, or hope, or enough moral fiber to understand that seizing control of the village was wrong. They'd made one major mistake in their quest for domination, though...

...they'd went and had another son.

Sasuke had changed Itachi as a person. Until the birth of his little brother, Itachi had been more than happy to indulge his parents and do everything he was told, a dutiful son. But, once he'd held his little brother in his arms, he'd been smitten. Once he'd soothed the boy's cries while the Leaf Village was under attack, patched a torn elbow when he'd fallen, played hide and seek, hugged him when he was sad, watched him in secret as he struggled to gain the attention of their parents… once Itachi had become an older brother, nothing else had mattered but that Sasuke should be his best friend. He needed to protect his little brother, and he'd rebelled against his parents, only just enough. He'd given them enough satisfaction with his progress to keep them from complaining, but he'd been so successful that they were a little fearful, as well. Absolutely nothing was going to stand between him and his little brother. If anything at all threatened Sasuke's well being, they were going to find out what being an older brother truly meant to Itachi Uchiha.

That reminded him, though, that Hanabi had an older sister as well. Older, not younger. Why was Hiashi Hyuuga starting so early on this one? He was sure that the older one—Hinata, he remembered—had only started training within the past few years herself. She must have been around Sasuke's age, in fact. "So you're training to become a ninja," he murmured. "That's  _good_  news." He laid a hand gently on her shoulder to show support. The path to becoming a Shinobi was important to any Leaf Village child, even if he himself was disillusioned to its perils. Most kids were excited to start training, and were so impatient to be about it that playtime involved fantasies about being jonin and hunting enemies.

She beamed for an instant, but quickly grew morose again. "I thought so, too, but… Father wants me to fight my own sister." Her eyebrows drew tight together, and her lip quivered. It was clear how she felt about  _that_.

Itachi feared she might cry. On a visceral level, he  _needed_  that not to happen. He drew her in for another hug and stroked her hair. He guessed at the reason she was upset, and he guessed that that must be the difference between sisters and brothers. "You don't want to hurt your sister," he stated. She nodded but said nothing. To him, it made perfect sense. Whereas he and Sasuke had a pseudo rivalry going—to be fair, Sasuke was never going to catch up to him at that age—in which Sasuke would occasionally challenge him to test his own abilities, girls were much more sensitive. Boys didn't like to share feelings; they mostly guessed at each other's feelings and swaggered and bragged to show that they were feeling confidence. Expressing doubt or concern was considered a sign of weakness. Girls, on the other hand, usually shared all of their feelings with each other, especially between sisters who were close friends as well. Hanabi was incorrectly assuming that if she sparred with Hinata that Hinata would interpret that as a severance of their close relationship. She really just couldn't bring herself to do that to a friend.

To his great relief, she didn't cry at all. The tears collected, but they did not fall. He pulled her out of the hug and stared into her eyes. This, at least, was something he could help with. "Hanabi, listen to me, okay?"

"Okay," she answered tremulously. She needed this advice. There was nothing in her life more confusing than what had happened to her today. If this guy could help her, she would adore him forever.

Itachi took a deep breath to steady his nerves and continue. This was a sensitive topic for him as well. He was never going to get to enjoy his brother the way he had in the past; they would be forever estranged now. Likely, Sasuke would try to kill him several times in the future. Discussing the bond between siblings was going to hurt, but Hanabi needed to hear this. "There is absolutely not a thing in the world you can do to make your sister hate you. The bond between siblings never weakens, no matter what. It might seem at times that you hate her, or that she hates you, but that will never ever be true. I have no doubt in my mind that she is scared for you right now because you ran away and she doesn't know where you are. I am sure she loves you." He paused to let her consider that. "Do you love your sister?"

Hanabi's eyes had grown wide as she absorbed all the information. Of course she loved Hinata! "Yes!" she answered readily. "She's the bestest sister in the world!"

He had to try hard not to smile so he could appear serious to this girl. "Okay. You need to fight with her when you are training so you can both be strong enough to protect each other. You don't want your sister to get hurt, do you?"

Hanabi squirmed a little, uncomfortable with the thought. "No, I don't want Hinata to get hurt."

"And you can't fight with enemies, because right now you don't have anyone who hates you enough to fight, right?" He knew he had her now.

"I don't  _think_  anyone hates me," she said uncertainly.  _He_  certainly doubted that anyone hated this girl.

"Alright. So your sister is the only one who can fight with you right now. She doesn't want you to get hurt either because she loves you. So, you need to fight each other to make each other strong so you can be a good little sister and help keep her safe, okay?" He finished with a smile, driving his point home as being a good thing.

She seemed to be getting it. She stared for a long time at his face again, trying to decipher if he was trustworthy or not. Whatever she saw there convinced her. "Okay. I will help Hinata get stronger." She nodded slowly, accepting his advice. After a moment though, she lowered her eyes again, hesitating. "Koinu, can I ask you a question?"

He, too, hesitated, uncertain. If he granted her the request to ask him a question, he couldn't rightly deny her the answer. But, if she asked a pointed question about a sensitive topic, he didn't feel he was able to answer that, either. He ran through all the things in his mind that they had talked about. None of it seemed dangerous. She couldn't possibly know about what had happened in the Uchiha neighborhood, could she? He deemed it safe to risk. "Sure."

"How do you know so much about me and my sister?" She hurriedly explained. "I mean, it almost sounds as if you know my sister and me." She gazed into his eyes, trying to find the answer.

He thought about it. Surely, this couldn't be too much to divulge. "I have a little brother," he told her. "All older siblings love their little brothers and sisters." But not every older brother slaughters his parents, he thought. Not every older brother takes away your childhood, family, and happiness in the space of a single night. Not every older brother leaves you helpless and unconscious on a dark and bloody street. Darkness swirled, threatening to consume him.

His troubled thoughts were interrupted by the sweet, lost little girl again. "Can I ask you another question?" He nodded, feeling himself unable to speak right at that moment. "Why does your little brother make your eyes go all sad?" She cocked her head to one side, truly curious.

He looked away. Her ability to read his mood was making him self-conscious. No one in the world had ever read him so well, except for perhaps Amiko.

 _Amiko…_ Another painful memory best suppressed.

"Someone took my little brother away from me," he told her quietly.  _Me,_  he thought. "I can't ever see him again." He figured that was a simple enough answer _. It might seem at times that you hate her, or that she hates you, but that will never ever be true._ He had told Sasuke much the same thing. Would he figure out the truth on his own?

"Why?" she persisted.

Would she never stop with these questions? He chose not to answer this one. He gave her the answer to a different question instead. "Whatever you do in your life, Hanabi, don't ever forget that your sister loves you."  _Will you forget, Sasuke? Will you remember nothing but the hatred I told you to nurture?_

She smiled and nodded. "I wouldn't."

Alright, enough dawdling. He held out his hand, which she readily grasped. Then, they started the short trek back to the Village. They walked; he walked slowly, his longer legs carrying him a longer distance with fewer strides, while she scrambled with her much shorter legs, nearly jogging and flouncing to keep up. He found it more and more difficult to contain his smile. So many things about this youngster reminded him of Sasuke that it was unreal. He was glad to have met her, even if he knew he should never see her again. His presence in her life was unthinkable. In a few years, she would have forgotten all about this encounter and be better for it.

He told himself that.

"Koinu?" she prompted, breaking the silence. She didn't look at him; her eyes were too focused on not tripping over things on the ground at this relatively breakneck pace.

"Hn?" He regarded her out of the corner of his eye, amused at the way she was so focused on the ground in front of her feet.

"Do you miss your little brother?"

His heart clenched sharply just at the question. The memory was too fresh, the pain too new. "Yes," he answered, his chest tight.

"Why don't you go get him back from whoever took him?" She stole a peek at him, but although she wanted to watch his face as he answered, she was having too much trouble keeping up with his long legs. She gripped his hand tighter, hoping that his strength would protect her from any peril that her legs might visit upon her.

Itachi didn't answer her. How could he tell her that it was his own fault that he and Sasuke could not be together anymore? He couldn't.

She ignored his inner turmoil, and continued. "If someone took me away from Hinata, I think I would want her to come and find me. Otherwise I might think she didn't love me and didn't miss me."

Her words stung. They were true words, even if thinking them didn't change anything. "Some day he will understand," he said to himself.

"Hm?"

He realized he'd mistakenly spoken out loud. "Nothing. What I mean to say is that I can't."

"Why not?"

He felt proud of this small victory, and lips twitched with the hint of a smile. "He and I didn't practice enough when we were younger, so I'm not strong enough to go save him."

The silence that stretched between them then was comical. He knew he'd just planted the seed of strength within this little girl. Her expression had gone feral. "No one will ever take my sister away from me," she hissed fiercely. "I will not let them, and if they take her, I will kill them."

He blinked. Had she really just said that? The toddler hanging off his arm had just uttered the word 'kill.' He had to admit he was impressed. She was feistier than he could have imagined at her tender age. Someday, she would be a truly strong Shinobi. He hoped he lived long enough to see that, even if he was on the other side of the drawn line. He squeezed her little hand affectionately. She squeezed back and grinned at him.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Her presence was keeping him calm. Without her there, he most certainly would be breaking down with madness right now, stressing about his current situation, fretting about Sasuke's safety, and miserable about the death of his parents. Instead, he was enjoying the tuneless melody that Hanabi was humming, mildly worried about her life after he dropped her off, and soothed by the little bubble of joy that seemed to envelop her wherever she went. He was actually numb with calm just by being near her. It was beautiful.

Before too long, they were within walking distance of the wall. Itachi chose to stay among the shadows of the trees. He shooed her toward the wall, noting the crack that she had crawled through to leave the village. He waved with his hand for her to leave him and go through the crack, but to his surprise, she resisted.

Her eyes were wide with an unreasonable fear, so he asked her about it. "Will I ever see you again, Koinu?" she asked, suddenly sad.

His heart swelled with a feeling he was not expecting: love. She made him feel needed and appreciated, which wasn't exactly something he could afford right now. Nonetheless, he knew that he should not—could not—ever meet with Hanabi Hyuuga again. It was undoubtedly a bad idea no matter which way he looked at it. Still, her fearful, tragic eyes made him lie anyway, even though he didn't like to lie. "Of course!" he exclaimed with a smile and a gentle pat on the head. "I'll come see you soon!"

Her pale, fearful face split into a wide grin. He felt guilty that he had abolished all of her fears with a lie. He would not be back. He felt even worse as she threw her arms around his knees and pressed her face into his stomach. "I'll miss you, Koinu. Thanks!"

The pain around his heart melted at the contact. There was a soft, secret smile on his face before he even realized it was there. For the first time in the past several months, he felt completely at peace. Not good. "I'll miss you too, Hanabi," he told her. And to his great concern, he meant it, too. "Be a good girl, okay?"

"'Kay!" She broke away and ran to the crack in the wall. She had one leg into it when she stopped. She looked back at the man who had saved her from being lost in the woods. It was the first time she had really known a stranger, and she didn't think it was all that bad. His sad, black eyes that turned a strange red and his warm, soft body had made her want to give him an infinite number of hugs. She liked him for reasons she couldn't quite name, except that he made her feel… safe.

It was in that moment that she made a snap decision. She carefully extracted her leg from the crack in the wall to the village and ran back across the space between them. The look on Koinu's face was surprised and worried. Why worried? She pulled the necklace out of her pocket that she had intended to give to her father and held it aloft in both hands. "Here," she said shyly, hoping he'd like it.

"What's this?" he asked as he took it. He observed it in his hands. It was a thin, black cord linking together three silver rings that were suspiciously shaped like eyes. How appropriate.

"I made it!" she exclaimed proudly. "It's a necklace! Hinata told me that I should pick my favorite one and give it to someone special. I want you to have it, so you won't ever forget me." She beamed with pride. She watched his face as he considered the present, and she knew she'd done something good. If she had given it to her father, he probably would have smiled and thanked her and then put it in a box somewhere. Koinu's face as he realized she had given him a special present was appreciative. He would give the necklace a good home.

"Are these eyes?" he asked, pointing.

She peered at the shapes in his hand, and he watched her face as she tried to explain her masterpiece. "Mmyeah!" she agreed. He understood from her tone that she hadn't cared what they were… she just thought they were pretty.

He found that amusing, so he continued. "What color are they?"

She swayed, thinking. "I dunno. It doesn't matter what color eyes they are." She decided that was a good enough answer.

Didn't matter what color eyes, indeed. Itachi was floored. His heart felt so full of love he thought it would burst. He couldn't even articulate into words how big of a gesture this really was. He merely stared at the three silver shapes in his hand and the thin black line that connected them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been given a gift for no reason before. He felt the smile on his face before he knew it, and then he clasped the cord around his neck and fastened it. He shut his eyes as he focused on tying the tiny knot on the back of his neck. When he opened them again, Hanabi was beside herself with glee. He held his arms open and invited her for another hug. She readily agreed, and leapt into his arms. Her small arms threatened to choke him as she squeezed, but he didn't care.

Then, she hurriedly kissed his cheek and, laughing, skipped away and through the crack in the wall and was gone, leaving a world bereft where before there was light.

Numb to all else, Itachi laid his fingers against one of the silver rings at his collarbone. They were cool to the touch, as he had expected, but they made him feel warm anyway. It felt strange that such a silly item as a child's handmade necklace could affect him so, but it did and he didn't care that it did. Her brightness gave him the strength he needed to face the immediate trials that he needed to confront, and her kiss would give him good luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the necklace motif. I've seen several explanations about where the mysterious piece of jewelry came from, but I figured I'd give it a new twist.
> 
> This all started as a tiny idea… I wanted an innocent, happy child to inspire someone dangerous. I can't quite remember how I settled on Itachi. I hesitate to write about Itachi at all… he's my favorite character (followed closely by Shikamaru and Kakashi) and I don't want to risk misrepresenting him.
> 
> But then, as my imagination ran wild with the tiny idea and the idea turned into a project, he was perfect for this job. Itachi needed to have something go right for him for once. This is my way to use one of my favorite characters to write (Hanabi) to honor him. LOVE HIM HANABI! MAKE HIM HAPPY! LET HIM BE AT PEACE WHEN HE—I'll shut up now.


	5. Scary Killer Guy

Timeline: One day after the Uchiha Massacre

* * *

 

It wasn't hard to find the Hokage. Right about this time in the late morning, Hiruzen Sarutobi was looking out upon his village. It was important to him, he had said, to see the villagers go about their everyday lives. It reminded him why he was the Hokage, and what it was he had agreed to protect. This would also be an appropriate moment for Itachi's request. Still wearing his ANBU uniform—that would need to be disposed of soon, he decided—he alighted behind him on a rooftop balcony. He crouched low—it just wouldn't do to be seen at this point.

"Itachi," the third Hokage said grimly without turning around. "News has already reached me of the mission that was carried out despite my wishes. Several teams have been dispatched. They are hunting you. The rest of the village doesn't know yet. Still, it is very foolish of you to still be here." He turned slightly, regarding Itachi out of the corner of one eye.

Itachi schooled his features. It was easier now. The part of him that had feelings was adequately caged. "I've done what I thought was best to protect the Village Hidden in the Leaves," was his response. "I deeply regret that you disagree with what I have done, but I believe it was best. For the Village." One regret among many.

Sarutobi turned away, looking over the citizens of Konoha as they busied themselves with their daily chores. The moment stretched between them. Slowly, he stated his guess. "And Sasuke, I presume."

So he  _did_  know of the conditions that Danzo had approached him with. Itachi was not surprised. "Yes." He bowed his head. "Still, even without that, you know that my clan would never have agreed to any of your terms. They are too angry, and too proud. Any compromise you could have come to would still only have been a temporary patch on an already hostile situation. You could give them the world, and they'd want the moon, too. Anything less would be an insult in their eyes."

The Hokage loosed a long sigh. "Yes, I am aware of that."

Itachi blinked. "Then… why?" Was the Hokage really that foolish, that he would throw his life away for a fractional chance at peace?

He chuckled humorlessly. "Itachi, I am an old man. I desire peace, even temporary peace. I hope some day you will be able to understand that, but I fear that with the path you have chosen, you will not live to be as old as I have. Still,  _peace_  is a concept you  _do_  understand. Any peace is worth the cost of my life to me. Besides, when I had chosen a successor to become the Sixth Hokage, I had hope that he or she would be able to make a more lasting peace with the Uchiha Clan and pick up where I had left off." He paused. "To be candid, I had hoped it would be you. There could never be a better choice to protect the village and bridge the rift between the Village and the Uchiha Clan." He lowered his voice, sad. "I am sorry that such a dream has changed. I wish you the best, Itachi Uchiha."

He felt a pang of guilt at the old man's words. He had had no idea that Hiruzen had ever considered him a candidate for Hokage. He was, after all, only thirteen. Still, he was grateful for the Hokage's faith in him. "With all due respect, I am sure that the current situation will be workable for peace." A dead Uchiha was a peaceful one, and not prone to coup d'etats.

"It is, at that," Sarutobi admitted grudgingly. "But now it is a peace without the protection of the Sharingan."

"Or the threat," Itachi countered. Sarutobi nodded, but said nothing. Itachi decided it was time to get to the point. "There is still one Sharingan left to Konoha. Danzo promised that Sasuke would be kept safe once I… left." He had a hard time saying that. He had never wanted to leave his home, particularly if it meant leaving Sasuke behind. "I beg of you, please protect Sasuke and… make sure he never learns the truth about me."

Sarutobi whipped around so sharply that his robes spun. "What?" Itachi didn't respond. He kept his head bowed, hoping beyond hope that the Hokage would heed his request. "You really want your brother to grow into a formidable Shinobi-perhaps the best we've ever seen-thinking you're the enemy? Hating you?" He paused. "Wanting to kill you?"

His voice was barely audible when he answered. The single word he spoke next was probably the most painful word he had ever uttered. "Yes." By now, his mind was made up. He'd thought about it as he had traveled here to this spot. If Itachi and Sasuke were ever to fight, Itachi could give him the final weapon of the Sharingan, rendering him nearly invincible. He had told Sasuke how to awaken the Mangekyou Sharingan, but he had already guessed that his little brother wouldn't do it. Bonds were, by now, too important to Sasuke for him to be able to kill his best friend. He already had too few people left to him. Giving Sasuke the opportunity to kill him would be his way of atoning for what he had done to the boy's childhood. The secret to the powers of their eyes were treacherous…they could only be enhanced by causing pain to the self. They were a great weapon, but they came at a ghastly price.

Some days, Itachi wished he'd been born blind instead. But then... how much would that have changed everything? Would Sasuke be kneeling here at Sarutobi's sandals, begging the same question of this man?

"I won't," Sarutobi answered. "You're a good man, Itachi Uchiha, and your little brother deserves to know you as you are." He turned back to his view of the village, signaling the end of the discussion.

Itachi wouldn't have it. He stood. "Please. I just sacrificed everything that meant anything to me for the sake of the Village. The least you could do is this one simple thing that I ask, and never speak of the lie my life is about to become. I have my reasons. Please just respect my request. Protect Sasuke, and allow me to become the criminal that the village will see, even for him. Please, Sarutobi. I am asking you to trust me and respect my wishes."

The silence stretched so long that Itachi feared he was being ignored. Then, finally, just as Itachi was about to try again, the Third's chin dipped to his chest in a barely perceptible nod. "Alright, Itachi. You have my word that Sasuke will not be told the truth about you. Now, please, be gone from this place, before you are found and killed. I hope that I am dead and gone on the day of your death."

"Thank you," Itachi whispered, grateful for the acquiescence and the compliment. He didn't waste any more time. He had one more person to meet with before he departed.

Danzo was harder to find. Despite the fact that he was more decrepit than the Third, he traveled about three times more in a single day, checking in with spies and doing some spying himself. Nothing was more important to Danzo than knowing exactly what was going on, both inside and outside Konoha, at all times. He had an extravagant network of spies, and keeping track of them all took up most of Danzo's time. Itachi had spent a lot of his own time keeping track of Danzo. Underestimating Danzo was a fatal mistake; Danzo would do anything, anything at all, if it meant protecting the Village. Worst of all, Danzo was not always correct. He would take any risk on a whim, and it made him a dangerous man. This was the reason that Itachi needed to see Danzo one more time before he took his leave of Konoha. He found him deep in the confines of Root, a secret ANBU organization for children loyal to Danzo alone. He had had to sneak past multiple guards to find him as he meandered through the maze of hallways.

"Itachi," Danzo greeted without turning to face him. "Congratulations on the success of your mission."

Itachi ignored the comment. He didn't feel the need for congratulations. He got straight to the point. "I've done as you asked. I want your word that Sasuke will be safe." He clenched his hands into fists, already on the edge. Talking to Danzo frayed his temper. This man was a worm. A vile, treacherous worm. Being near him sickened Itachi.

He sighed, as if humoring a child with a tantrum. "If Sasuke doesn't—"

"No," Itachi snarled, losing his calm. "Not 'if.' Nothing happens to Sasuke. Even if he tries to kill you. Even if he leaves the Village. Even if he disembowels your every last living relative. No matter what, Danzo. If you or anyone tries to lay a hand on Sasuke, I will find you, and I will kill you. I have paid my price. And," he lowered his voice, letting all of the menace replace the volume, "I will give all of the village's secrets to the enemy. I've been invited to join the Akatsuki. You'll know who they are soon enough. If anything happens to my little brother, I'll see to it that Konoha becomes their primary target, and I'll give them every tiny little detail they need to reduce the Leaf to ash." He let the threat hang in the air between them. The quiet was deafening.

Danzo searched his face for the truth. It was well known how deeply Itachi cared for his village. "You forget whom you are threatening, Itachi Uchiha," Danzo rumbled.

Oh, how Itachi was tired of hearing that warning. He clenched his fists even harder, struggling to maintain his calm.

Danzo continued, "I will protect your little brother, Itachi, but know this: just for that threat, if anything ever happens to you and you are killed and Sasuke becomes a threat, I will kill him myself. Until then, I will see to it that he is safe."

Itachi didn't wait any longer. It was hard enough for him to maintain his composure around Danzo. He spun on his heel and reached the end of that particular hallway in six long, swift strides before Danzo's voice stopped him one more time. "Itachi. Was it hard to say goodbye… to Amiko?"

A pang of guilt stabbed him in the heart. He didn't know if he could have been able to do what had needed to be done without her sacrifice. The pain of losing her had been just as hard to suppress as the pain of losing his parents, but he'd done it for these couple of days so that he didn't crack before he could leave Konoha. Hearing her name on the lips of this man chilled him, though. His relationship with Amiko had been entirely secret. He had known from the onset that his parents would disapprove of him being distracted, and probably even more so since he was still quite young. He and Amiko met furtively and in secret, and she was not that well known even in the Uchiha clan.

All of a sudden, he really wanted to kill this man. It had taken six strides to reach the end of this hallway. It took three to be in Danzo's face. With one hand, he gripped the front of the older man's shirt. With the other, he crushed his throat beneath his forearm. "How do you know about Amiko?" he asked, dangerously soft, his placid face belying the torrent of rage within.

Danzo's face broadened in a slow, knowing smile. "How do you think a brat like you earned the attention of a pretty woman half again your age?" He didn't need to say anything else. That was enough. All the anger at Danzo evaporated, leaving only a hollow shell where his love for Amiko had been. Like a fool, he had never suspected, not even once, that she might have been a spy. Danzo chuckled. "I see you've figured it out. Amiko Uchiha was a member of Root. She was our insurance, to make sure you were doing your duty to Konoha and not selling us out to the Uchiha."

Itachi's strength sapped, his voice hollow.. "I already gave you everything. You had to take her, too?" His chest tightened, heart pounding like a jackhammer in his ribs. He couldn't handle losing the memory of Amiko. She had been the rock that had gotten him through his time as a double agent. Without her, he probably wouldn't have been able to do it. And to find out it had all been a lie? His heart was probably bleeding out in his chest.

"You aren't understanding me, Itachi. She was never yours to begin with. Amiko's role was to get you to trust her. To be the only one that you trusted. And then, you would be unable to resist having someone to talk to about your treachery, and we'd find out where your loyalties truly lay. We're proud of your commitment to the Village, Itachi. I suppose you probably guessed, too, that her death was also a part of her mission. She knew it and accepted it for the fate of Konoha."

No! He rattled Danzo against the wall, willing him to stop talking. Must… control… emotion. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He would deal with his own problems once he had left the village. Instead, he fixed Danzo with one final, steely glare. Frantically, he shoved his emotions out of the way, and ice laced his voice when he spoke again. "Remember your promise, Danzo Shimura. Sasuke. Alive and well." Danzo's only response was a smug smile.

Itachi released him and was gone in an instant, leaving Danzo, Root, ANBU, and Konoha far behind.

* * *

 

Hanabi's father had been so frightened about her disappearance that he couldn't even summon the anger he needed to chastise her for running away. "Just… don't do it again," he told her, pulling her in for a hug.

"Okay!" she exclaimed, unflappable as ever.

"Training today has been canceled," he told them both gravely, "and neither of you are to leave the house until I tell you so." His expression brooked no argument.

Hinata's eyes widened. Canceling training happened so rarely that she did not even dare hope anymore. Hanabi, on the other hand, was too young to recognize such a delicate situation. "Why? Did I make you too angry?" Tears gathered in her eyes and threatened to overflow, all happiness from her new friend shattered. The thought that her family would not forgive her had never entered her mind, and now she was scared that it was true.

Hiashi, on the other hand, believed that his daughters should not be coddled. There were dangers in the world that one should never ignore. It was unwise, in his opinion, to shelter even children from the darkness of the Shinobi world. "The neighboring clan, the Uchiha, were all killed last night, and the murderer is still at large."

"How large?" Hanabi asked innocently, having never heard the phrase. No one laughed or answered her honest question, though. She didn't ask it again; her family didn't look very happy and she didn't want to annoy them with too many questions.

"One of them is in my class," Hinata said softly.

Hiashi's eyes found hers. "Sasuke is the only survivor, Hinata," he told her gently. "His brother, Itachi, was the killer." Hinata's eyes widened even more, shocked by the news. "Be kind to him at school, Hinata. He will need friends more than ever."

"Yes, Father," she said meekly, still reeling from the news.

"Father, are you going to go catch the bad guy?" Hanabi asked him.

Hiashi laid a hand on her shoulder. "Only if the Hokage asks it of me. Shinobi respect the decisions of their leader. Lord Hokage will assemble the right ninja for the job, and we need not worry. But just to be safe, we're going to stay home and protect each other, alright?" Both girls nodded, understanding as much as their ages and experience allowed.

That meant that they could play in their rooms all day. The two girls shared a knowing look, trying to hide their smiles. They slowly left the room, heads bowed with respect. Whatever the situation entailed, they knew that their father took it seriously, and whatever Hiashi took seriously had better be taken seriously by all. They marched slowly out of the dining room, trying to look sad and scared. Then, as soon as they were out of sight, they exchanged a look and raced to Hinata's room, giggling.

In the dining room, Hiashi sighed to himself, listening to the hurriedly stomping feet traveling down his hallway. "Even the Shinobi world does not prepare you for daughters," he said to no one, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand.

Once inside, Hinata stripped all of the blankets and sheets off of her bed, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor. "Blanket fort!" exclaimed Hanabi with excitement, throwing both hands into the air and dancing in a small circle. Hinata laughed at her enthusiasm, already hooking the corners of a sheet around the bedpost and her chair. Hanabi, too small to really be of help in that department, took to arranging the pillows and cushions within the fort.

It was still daytime, so they didn't really need a flashlight and it didn't feel as secret, but it was still fun. They spent the afternoon diving in and out of their creation, pretending to be all manner of wild beasts. It was when Hinata exclaimed "I'm a deer!" that Hanabi remembered her encounter outside Konoha. "Hinata?" Hanabi asked, suddenly very serious for her usual demeanor. Hinata stopped prancing about the room to look at her younger sister. Mistakenly, she thought something she had done had made the little girl sad, so she crashed to her knees on the cushions and threw her arms around her shoulders. "How do you feel about fighting with me?"

Hinata stiffened. She didn't really want to discuss this, either. "Hanabi," she said with some difficulty, "I don't really want to, but we have to."

Hanabi met her eyes. "Because fighting each other makes us both stronger, so we can protect each other?" She wanted Koinu to be right.

Hinata apparently hadn't considered that before. Her answer was going to be, "Because Father said so." Hanabi's words made sense, so she stewed them over in her mind. Hanabi's reason sounded so much better than her father's. "Yes, actually. That's right!" She squeezed her little sister even harder. "The stronger we are, the better we can protect each other!"

Hanabi grabbed her sister's hands, never wanting to let go. "I will protect you from the scary killer guy, Hinata! You can count on me!"

And she would, she vowed to herself. No matter what it took. If there were ugly, ambiguously large, dangerous men out there wanting to kill her sister, she'd be the strongest ninja in the entire world, and the enemy would have to fight her first. And he would die, painfully, for trying to take Hinata away from her.

It never even occurred to her that the soft-spoken, warm-hug-giving, kind and knowledgeable man in the forest had anything at all to do with the events that had transpired. They simply could not be the same person.

Sometimes, children felt the truth more easily than adults did.


	6. Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 years, 1 month post massacre

From that day forward, Hanabi poured her efforts into training. She and Hinata never shied away from hitting each other again. Putting everything they had into trying to land blows made them stronger. Both girls felt that they were improving. During training, they attacked each other fiercely, faces contorted into masks of concentration, struggling to land a single hit. During the evenings, they spent all of their time together, giggling about anything and nothing, tickling, drawing pictures, and reading together. As sisters, they were inseparable. They never let the rivalry between them in the dojo supersede their relationship as sisters and best friends. Nothing would ever come between them. Never.

As Hanabi grew older, she realized just how much Hinata hated training. Hanabi had no doubt in her mind that, if Hinata had had the choice, she probably would have stopped training to become a ninja altogether. Fighting was probably the lowlight of her day. If it had only been the two of them, she might have enjoyed it, but under the watchful and disapproving eye of their Father, it was clear that she was uncomfortable, and Hanabi knew exactly why: their father was  _ridiculously_  tough on her.

He treated the two of them differently. Hinata, as the heiress to their family seat, had  _expectations._  Expectations, Hanabi learned, meant that everyone wanted you to do things a certain way no matter what you thought about it. No one had expectations of Hanabi because she was younger, but Hinata was another matter. Hiashi always made her train extra hard. She had to have perfect manners, while Hanabi got away with accidentally using improper grammar or forgetting a please and thank you here and there. Hinata wasn't allowed to play as much, and she was never allowed to get dirty. Hanabi had an idea what  _expectations_ meant, and she was glad that they were not required of her.

Expectations when it came to ninja training made all the difference in the two of them. Hinata was pressured to be the best, and as the older sister, it was expected that she beat Hanabi each and every time without fail. Hanabi, free from the bonds of expectations, was really just having fun with it. On Koinu's advice, she was taking her training exercises seriously, and she found she had a natural talent for physical combat. She felt graceful and strong when she was fighting with Hinata, and it was invigorating. Unfortunately, she had proven to be a better fighter than Hinata as a result. Hinata didn't really mind; she loved her little sister and was proud of her skills. But their father minded… their father minded very much. His face was impassive as they fought, but each time Hinata fell—which was often—he would shake his head disapprovingly, or frown, or worse, walk away and leave them as if he had completely lost interest, and every time he did so, Hanabi saw a mental spike driven through her older sister's heart. She had tried going easy on Hinata, but Hiashi noticed right away and chastised her severely for it.

As time went on, Hinata withdrew. Her smiles became more rare. She spent more time alone in her room than together with Hanabi in their famous blanket forts. She laughed less. Hanabi had really started to miss her. Still, Hanabi's ability to sense distress would not let her down. Instead of begging Hinata to play with her, she tried a different approach. When Hinata was shut up in her room, Hanabi sought her out. She'd sneak into the room when their father wasn't looking and hop up onto the bed with Hinata. She cuddled in close and hugged her and showered her with compliments. "It's okay, Hinata," she'd say. "I think you're beautiful, and smart, and really nice. I know you're strong. I would never want any other sister, not ever." It made Hanabi intensely sad, though, that Hinata would cry and hug her tight and thank her, but there was nothing else that Hanabi could think of to do.

It got to be especially bad when they were fighting one day with Ko in attendance. Ko was Hinata's caretaker and protector. He followed her everywhere whenever Hinata left the household. He had also become Hinata's stand-in father. There was no replacement for Hiashi, of course, and Hinata would forever seek his approval and despair when it wasn't given, but sometimes Hinata wished that Ko were her real father in secret. She loved Ko dearly.

But when Hanabi landed an especially good kick that sent Hinata out across the floor, Hiashi stalked away in disgust, and Hinata had had enough. Ko had seen her defeated and her father didn't believe in her. Tears rolling down her face, she ran. Hanabi looked from the doorway where her father exited to the doorway that Ko had chased after Hinata, and it suddenly dawned on her, too late, that this was a bigger situation than she had thought.

Looking back, she would always recognize that moment as an important one, and she would feel guilty about it forever. It was in that moment where everyone had left her alone in the dojo that she realized her precocious skill had cost her older sister everything she had ever held dear, and never once had Hinata complained about it or resented her for it. And, it was this moment that cost Hanabi her sister. Literally.

* * *

 

It had been like any other day. The two woke up, bolted down their healthy breakfast like ravenous wolves, and made their way to the dojo for training. They stretched, all the while talking about their latest dream or nightmare, giggling. The previous day's trouble had been all but forgotten. While they were still in the midst of stretching out their muscles, their father entered the room, trailing a very pretty woman with black hair and red eyes. Both of them recognized her clothing as the regulation uniform of a Shinobi. A real ninja!

They could hardly contain their excitement. All their young lives they'd spent preparing for the day when they could become actual ninjas. They shared a look, and both knew what the other was thinking. Today was the day that they would prove themselves to the beautiful woman in the flak jacket. They had never imagined that a ninja could look so  _regal_. She was the epitome of what a kunoichi should be. Nonetheless, they tried to compose themselves. It would not do to appear unseemly in front of the red-eyed jounin or their father. Hanabi thought to herself that they were doing a pretty good job of it, actually. They waited to see what the lovely woman would do, eyes twinkling with excitement.

Hiashi's eyes fell upon them. "Hinata, leave us. You're free for the day," their father commanded. Hinata's eyes widened. She looked uncertainly between Hanabi, the pretty kunoichi who had arrived, and her father, but he didn't rescind the command. Confused, she left the room with one last glance at Hanabi. Hanabi saw the concern there, and wondered if Hinata was worried that something bad was about to happen. Hanabi didn't have much time to worry about that, though. Hiashi turned his attention back to her. "This is Kurenai Yuhi," he told her, indicating the new arrival. "I want to show her what you can do."

She nodded. Her father tossed her a kunai. Her first reaction was surprise, but then her father came at her and she didn't have any time for that. She had never had to fight him before, and at five years old, she knew she was outmatched. He attempted to strike her, hands trailing the blue signature of chakra as he cut arcs through the air. All she could do was dodge. Was he really coming at her with the Gentle Fist? She and Hinata had never attempted to actually use the Gentle Fist on each other. When they sparred it was all about form and execution. There was no need to put chakra into it, and anyway Hanabi was too young to be able to master it so it wouldn't have been fair. Palm strike after palm strike arced toward her. She dipped, sidestepped, and took step after step backward, avoiding the blows.

Her eyes were focused on his hands, but every now and then she caught the determined look on his face.  _He was actually trying to strike her!_  This wasn't a drill! The knowledge of that made her angry. He had not prepared her for this. It was grossly unfair! She twisted and gripped her kunai the proper way, ready to use it. Surely a little slash wouldn't hurt him too badly, but he'd get the point. He saw her move and smirked, approving. Even that made her angry. She twirled out of the way and went on the offensive, her face a mask of concentration. She dropped and made a spinning kick at his ankles to try to trip him, but he stepped out of the way of her much shorter legs. Then, in one motion, she swiped upward with the kunai, trying to land a slash at his chest. It was the opening he was waiting for, though. He twisted and came down on her shoulder with an elbow, knocking her to her knees, hard. She grunted from the impact.

Hiashi straightened and waited. "Stand up, Hanabi," he ordered her.

She took mental stock of her limbs, panting from exertion. Her knees were on fire. She thought about standing, but thought it might be best to wait a second, first, for the pain to ebb.

Kurenai spoke for the first time. "Very well, then, I will take Hinata under my wing." Hanabi's eyes widened, realization dawning on her. This wasn't just another training exercise after all. The pretty Shinobi was not here to evaluate them both and help them toward becoming ninja. She was here because… because… "But are you… sure that's what you want? She is your firstborn and heir to your household. The life of a genin can be dangerous and brief." Hanabi could hardly believe her ears. Her father had given Hinata to this woman to take away, and the ninja lady thought that there was a good chance Hinata might die! She put more pressure on her knees, testing the floorboards. _She would stand!_

"Do what you will," Hiashi said roughly, eliciting a quiet gasp from the younger woman. Hanabi struggled to her feet, brandishing the kunai. She would not be ignored, either. But her father was not yet done insulting her sister. "She is of less worth than her sister, five years her junior. The Hyuuga clan has no use for such an heir." This was too much to bear for Hanabi. She glared at her father and thought about attacking him. Her knees felt shattered, though, and she was afraid that if she took a step she would fall on them again and hurt them worse. "If you have nothing more to say, we have work to do," he told Kurenai, dismissing her. "Leave us now."

Kurenai turned from the pair. "Alright," she said, accepting his decision, leaving Hanabi with her head spinning so fast she thought she would get dizzy.

That was the day that Kurenai had walked out the door, and Hinata had gone with her. She would not see her again for a long, long time. It would feel to Hanabi, for a long time after, that her sister had been led to a slaughterhouse, and her father had sold her. But if Hinata had been led to a slaughterhouse and her father had been the one who sold her, what did that make Hanabi?

When the door was shut, she shrieked a battle cry and leapt into the air, meaning to come down on her father with the knife in her hand, heedless of what killing him might mean. All that mattered was that the most important person in her life had been taken away, and he was to blame. Her pain made her invincible. "I hate you!" She screamed midair. If she died, it wouldn't matter. She already felt dead.

He lashed out with the stick in his hand, easily deflecting her onslaught and knocking her onto her side on the floorboards. She rolled over onto her stomach and lifted her face off the ground with her hands. "I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you!" she shouted, slapping the wood beneath her palms, voice breaking with emotion.

Hiashi scowled down at her. "If you ever want to be a ninja, you should learn to control your feelings," he said tonelessly. She wanted to stab him in his cold, loveless face.

"How can you say that?" she screamed, tears rolling down her face. "You gave away my sister! What if she dies?" Hundreds of scenes of Hinata being killed flashed before her eyes. She remembered the too-large murderer that he'd told them about long ago, and imagined he was still out there, prowling the land for innocent, blanket fort-building girls who should not have tried to be ninjas. It made her hate him even more. She hoped the scary killer guy found her father instead, and Hinata and she could live in this house with Ko and be a real family with a better father.

His eyes narrowed. "That is none of our concern. You have a lot of work to do, Hanabi. Let's not waste our time." He adjusted his stance, and instinctively she knew he was about to attack again.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Hinata was gone. Already the world felt lonely without her. No more blanket forts. No more giggles. No more cuddling and reading bedtime stories. As her father lunged at her again, she filled her heart with hate. In every place in her heart that she had filled with Hinata's joy, she filled with hatred for him. She made an on-the-spot decision. Yes, she would become strong, no matter what the cost, because one thing was for certain.

Hinata needed her protection now more than ever.

She gripped her kunai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was definitely something to expand on this scene, given the anime and manga. There's nothing said about what happened before or after that fateful moment when Kurenai took Hinata away. Hanabi looked pretty pissed off to me. Did she look that way to you? Yeah, perhaps it was just the expression she wears when she's fighting, but what if there were more to it than that? Hm?


	7. Fix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 years 1 month post massacre

The last two years had been utter hell to Itachi.

Outwardly, he was deadpan calm as a Shinobi should be. That much, at least, was pretty much a requirement. Though he had what he would consider a 'good' partner for the Akatsuki, he still would never be able to fully trust the man. He and Kisame had developed a mutual respect. Both understood that the other had things from their pasts that they absolutely did not want to share, and both had figured out that the secrets they were hiding were the ones that made them feel the most human. There was more to their stories than that they had each killed some people. Itachi had guessed that Kisame had killed someone he had cared about, and he was pretty sure that Kisame had guessed the same thing about him. Itachi was also pretty certain that most of the other members of Akatsuki had not done anything similar, and in this respect he and Kisame had something in common. It was strange, but he  _almost_  considered Kisame a friend.

Almost, because whatever else could be said of the blue-skinned man, he was solidly loyal to Tobi's cause. If he had guessed that Itachi was actually gathering intel for Konoha, he would sell out Itachi in an instant, that much was sure. It was another trait that Itachi actually respected in Kisame, but it did put a bit of a rift in the being friends part. Not that he really cared to make friends, though. Friendship was incomprehensible.

What Itachi truly appreciated about his gruff companion, though, was that he understood the need for space. Occasionally, one of the two of them would feel the urge to be alone and disappear for a week or more at a time. It was understood without either of them saying a word that they did not want to be followed. If Kisame took off, Itachi let him, and neither of them said anything about it when he was suddenly there again. Likewise, Itachi discovered that if he, too, wanted to vanish for a spell to get some alone time, Kisame was not going to follow him. Again, Itachi suspected that it had something to do with the parts of them that made them human. It would not do to show any kind of human affection in what was more or less considered an evil organization. To each other, they mostly needed to appear invincible, merciless, and one hair trigger away from going off the deep end and killing everybody.

Itachi had absolutely no idea what Kisame did with his stolen free time, but what Itachi did with his free time was grieve. In general, he spoke very little. Most of the time, he was sifting through his memories, trying to recall the faces of those that he had killed. He knew that it wasn't healthy behavior, but it seemed wrong to forget his family. He wished he had taken more pictures back then, but he'd been too busy for that. As the faces of his mother and father faded in his memory and became blurry, he became more and more distressed. He wanted to remember every detail: the angle of the arch of his mother's eyebrows or the breadth of her smile, the way his father's lips creased when he frowned, his mother's singing voice or his father's deep hum, anything. But as time went on, all of the tiniest details faded to nothingness, and he had only the most ambiguous features of them both committed to memory. It felt false and incomplete, and it bothered him. He was losing memories of Sasuke, too, and that hurt even worse. His brother was still alive out there, somewhere. There was still the potential for new memories, and none of them were going to be good. Likely, they would clash and harsh words would be said. He really wanted to save the best memories to balance out the negative ones, and it was getting harder. Fortunately, the inevitability that he was going to see Sasuke's face again meant that he didn't feel quite as horrible for forgetting his face, and it was still pretty clear in his mind. He had once kept a picture in his pocket, but sometime during that horrific night, he'd lost it. If he started to forget, though, he needed only to see his own reflection to be reminded of certain aspects. For the most part, he and Sasuke had the same visage.

What confused him the most, though, was that there was one memory that never weakened, even in the slightest. When he was feeling especially tumultuous, he could easily recall Hanabi's bright smile, the way the sun had glinted off of her brown hair, the innocence in those wide, pale eyes, and the joy that radiated from her like she was her own star as she held the simple necklace aloft between them. He could always recall how warm her hands had been. It helped him hang on to remember that. She was the only person left in the world that didn't know he was a monster.

And she was the only reason he was still alive. So many times, he'd wondered what the point of living really was. His relationship with Amiko had been an awful, sweet, and torturous lie. He could never believe that she had ever actually loved him. He supposed that she did, but the members of Root were notorious for having no capacity for any real emotion. It could all have been a very skilled act. Now he would never know, so he could never believe it. He knew he'd never love another woman, and he felt robbed that his only lover had been a farce. Furthermore, he no longer had a home. Konoha was forever off limits, and he had no living family left to him besides a little brother that likely wanted him dead in a hundred ways more violent than the last. He had no friends aside from his monstrous Akatsuki partner who would surely hand him over to Leader if he even suspected he'd betray them. There was nothing left for him but his inevitable death at Sasuke's hands, so what was the point?

Hundreds of times, he'd been ready to die. He and Kisame squabbled sometimes, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't trying to provoke him into killing him outright. Unfortunately, Kisame more or less forgot about their squabbles or flippantly forgave him, so death at his hands never came to fruition. Sasuke wasn't old enough or strong enough to be able to kill him. Dozens of times, he'd simply held a kunai over his wrists and considered digging deep into them to let his lifeblood escape like he wished that he could. If he was feeling especially morose, he'd just lose himself in the memory of killing everyone and nearly starve to death.

It was Hanabi that brought him back from the brink of destruction.  _"Will I ever see you again, Koinu?"_ Why had he told her his name was Puppy? He didn't really know. It was the first thing that he had thought of that wasn't his real name. She had been so bright and full of life, and her only concerns in life had boiled down to two things: she loved her sister and didn't want her to be hurt, and she was afraid she might never see him again. Who was he to deny an innocent child her dreams?

She had given him a simple, elegant necklace that he actually loved very much. It was just his style, and the eyeshapes upon it were so deftly appropriate that he knew it must have been fate that brought them together that day.  _"Will I ever see you again, Koinu?"_ When he thought about her, he felt that he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill himself. It felt stupid to think that way, but he was worried that if he ended his own life, she would find out about it, and she would cry.

And he absolutely could not let that happen.

Her smile had saved him a hundred times or more. It gave him just enough strength to pocket his self-destructive tendencies and plaster impassiveness upon his face. He would get through this. He would do what had to be done to survive, at least until Sasuke killed him. If he could do that much, he could be absolved from his sins and protect his little brother from all the cruelty the world was sure to visit upon him. He could give Sasuke the strength he needed to protect himself. And then—then and only then—he could be quit of this painful world and all the memories like phantoms floating around in it. Then he might find lasting peace.

_Will I ever see you again, Koinu?_

_Yes, little one. You will see me again._ "Kisame," he said softly. He never had to raise his voice around his partner.

Kisame Hoshigaki was, by now, very familiar with the quiet, usually silent way of Itachi Uchiha. It was far more favorable for the man than being paired with a chatterbox like Deidara or a zealot like Hidan, and he was grateful for it. "Hm…?" He turned to regard his much younger partner. Itachi impressed Kisame, though he'd never say that to his face. For one so young, he had considerable philosophical depth. He was also incredibly talented, wise, and had one of the highest body counts of anyone in Akatsuki. Despite that, he saw right through the young man. Itachi was a tortured soul, intensely sad. He was a bleeding heart and tears wrapped in a paper-thin shell of blood-tarnished steel. He was a squishy, gentle center wrapped in cold and merciless violence. It was...  _intriguing_.

Itachi turned his deep, fathomless black eyes to his comrade. "I'm going out." He stood.

Kisame nodded. "Okay. Be careful, Itachi." He stood as well. "I suppose I can go on a little excursion of my own, as well. I'll meet you at Rendezvous 3. Don't die." It was kind of a joke between them, meaning Kisame always warned him not to die and Itachi said nothing. Itachi nodded, and the two parted ways. He wouldn't say it, but he did appreciate Kisame's attempts at humor. It at least showed that he cared in his warped way.

He didn't hurry because he didn't need to. There was no pressing business in Akatsuki right now. Their last command had been to "be ready" in case they were needed. Apparently, Tobi was up to something, but so much time passed between orders that he and Kisame actually had a lot of down time. That was good, in his opinion. He didn't really enjoy fighting. Down time was just fine by him.

It took him a little over a week to reach Konoha. When he finally caught sight of the moonlit wall looming up in the distance, he felt his heart stop. He had not expected the sight of the village to affect him so. All of the bright colors of the buildings and the people in it were at sharp odds with his dark and tragic memories. He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the childish wish that he could someday return home for real. Wouldn't that have been a sight? The S-rank criminal clan killer Itachi Uchiha, strolling through the gate, a welcome homecoming.

 _I won't be here long,_ he thought.  _I just need to see her and make sure she's okay. She doesn't even need to see that I'm here. She probably doesn't remember me anyway._ He just had to see her one more time. He needed to witness her life. One more shot of happiness to get him through the next few months. He smiled a wry smile; somehow, a toddler had become his heroin.

He knew where she lived. The Hyuuga residence was not very far from the Uchiha residence. Furthermore, the Hyuuga were kind of a rival clan to the Uchiha. Nothing happened within their grounds that his family had not known about, too. Hiashi Hyuuga was the head of the Main Branch. He had two daughters, Hinata and Hanabi. Hinata was roughly Sasuke's age, and would be about ten years old now. Hanabi would be around five.

It was ridiculously easy to sneak into the Hyuuga grounds. Arrogance had apparently convinced them that they didn't need any guards through the night. Inwardly he chastised Hiashi Hyuuga. Surely a past incident involving the Hidden Cloud should have taught him some sense. He stole through the shadows and sneaked around the perimeter of the house. From his knowledge of the layout, there were only a few rooms that could have been hers, and he nailed it on his first try. Silently, he slid the window open, and within moments he was inside.

Simply by staring down at her sleeping form, he felt all of his troubles slough away like a reptile skin. If he had said such a thing out loud, he knew he would have felt silly, but feelings were never clear-cut or reasonable, in his experience. Amiko was a testament to that. He shivered, suddenly cold. Perhaps it was better if he didn't think about her, either. All he knew was that inside, he hurt constantly, and there before him in a tiny innocent girl lay his salvation. She was breathing evenly, her features slack as she dreamed. The corner of his mouth turned upward in the hint of a smile when he noticed the puddle of drool on her pillow. Her arms were squeezed around one of her pillows, and her legs lay helter-skelter across the covers. She was apparently an aggressive sleeper, and he found it utterly adorable. He squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them again, attempting to commit every single detail to a permanent memory. When days got especially bad, he would remember this, and he hoped it would drag a smile across his face.

Finally, when he was certain that he had formed a lasting memory, he turned to exit through the window. In a very un-Itachi-like moment, his black and red Akatsuki cloak dragged through some of her toys and caused a metallic scraping sound. He swore softly and bent to retrieve the corner of the cloak. As he did so, his head bumped into the nightstand and sent a glass of water sailing to the floor, where it—of course—immediately shattered and splashed water everywhere. He froze, halfway bent over, and strained his ears to try to discern if she'd heard. The sheets rustled, and he heard a heavy, soft feminine sigh. Then there was stillness. She was still asleep. "Saved," he whispered, and he unbent his form to stand straight again.

As his head reached bed level, though, he came face to face with her strange, ghostly white eyes wide in the darkness. His breath caught and he froze all over again. She stared at him for a beat.

And then another.

He expected her to scream. He didn't expect her to remember him or see him there in the dark. He also didn't expect her to welcome his sudden and surely frightening presence in her bedroom. Neither of them moved, or breathed, or spoke. Finally, after blinking a few times and realizing that she was not dreaming, she whispered, "Koinu?"

He placed a smile on his face and nodded once, then realized she probably couldn't see that. "Yes, it's me, Hanabi."

Again, neither of them moved for several moments. Then, in an inhumanly fast flash, she was standing, her head barely above his waist, pounding at his chest with both fists. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" she shrieked. He couldn't contain his shock. What had he done? He held up both hands and let her beat him, unsure of what to do. Then, much to his further surprise, she broke down into tears and collapsed upon his feet, her hair brushing his bare toes. "I hate youuuu…" she sobbed. "You lied to me!"

His eyes darted around to room, half afraid that someone might hear and come running. He made what he was sure was a poor decision and scooped her up into his arms. Then, he exited out the window, the tiny girl slumped against his chest in apparent defeat, sobbing uncontrollably. No matter the risk, it simply would not do for Hiashi Hyuuga to find Itachi Uchiha in his youngest daughter's bedroom at this hour of the night. Or any hour of the night, for that matter. Nor any night at all.

In a hasty decision, he leapt the wall at the site of the crack that she'd slipped out just two years before. They didn't need to go too far; it was the middle of the night and no one was likely to come looking out here. He set her down with her back to the wall and squatted down in front of her. The moonlight glinted off of her pale eyes, bright with tears. It bothered him that she was crying, and it bothered him more so that she apparently thought he was the cause. Was she angry that he'd not come to visit her? "I'm sorry," he said to her, confused. He wasn't sure how to make her stop crying or how to make up for it, or even what he'd done to upset her or for what he was apologizing. He knew with absolute certainty, though, that he was sorry for it. "What have I done?"

Her face fixed itself into a frown, and she wrapped her arms around her knees. "You lied to me," she whispered, her voice hollow. "You said that if I worked really hard to become strong, I could protect Hinata. You were wrooong!" She launched into another bout of weeping.

His eyes widened with alarm. What had happened to Hinata? "Tell me everything," he insisted fiercely. He felt the urge to kill rising in his blood. His hands gripped his knees and he squeezed hard, trying to quell the bloodlust. If someone had hurt Hinata—which had clearly hurt Hanabi—he'd make sure they paid for it with blood, and lots of it.

"I did what you told me to do. I trained really hard and I got stronger. Hinata didn't get much stronger, so Father got rid of her and now it's just me. I want my sister back, you bastard!" she ended on a shriek, her eyes narrowing with anger. "I did what you said and they took her awayyyy!" She was wailing again. He started to panic, needing her tears to stop, for her to smile and hug him.

Hiashi… got rid of… Hinata? He ignored her insult and focused on the main details. "Where is Hinata now?" Dead? Or just gone?

Hanabi started hyperventilating. "I… don't… know…" she sobbed out, frantic. "She left with… Kurenai… months ago. Koinu…" She stared into her eyes, pleading. "Help me… I miss her."

He reached out and wrapped an arm around her small shoulders, then pulled her into his chest for a hug. He stroked her hair and let her cry. "No more tears, Hanabi. Hinata is alive, she's just gone." Hanabi choked out a loud sob. Clearly, she didn't like Hinata being gone. "The last time we met, you said no one could ever take your sister away from you," he reminded her. He felt her shaking shoulders still as she contemplated what he was saying. "You said you'd kill whoever tried. Where's the spitting cat that I met two years ago? You would never have let them take your sister away."

She pulled back from him and stared at his face with surprise. "I did say that, didn't I?" He nodded. A slow smile spread across her face. Her eyes glittered with ferocity in the moonlight, a feral panther kitten in the black of night. "You're right!" She squeezed him, her small arms barely able to fit around his back. "Oh, thank you, Koinu! You're the best!"

He smiled and patted her head, feeling his heart fill with love once again. "You're welcome, Hanabi." Heavens help the poor bastard who upset his little girl. The glitter in her eyes was steel, not glass. Somewhere in her gentle heart, Hanabi hid a ruthless side.

Hanabi was already forming a plan of action to save Hinata, and within her realm of fantasy, she was content. Resolute.


	8. The Family You Choose

2 years, 1 month post massacre

* * *

 

They held each other like that for many moments, enjoying the other's company. Hanabi, still a little girl, was a big fan of cuddling, and Itachi was warm and willing to let her cuddle in his lap. Her head resting on his knee, she finally breached the topic that he had hoped she would. "You came back to see me," she said softly. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," he answered after a pause.

She sighed. "What took you so long?"

He paused for a long time, unsure of how much to tell her. In the end, he went with the truth. "I had hoped you'd forgotten me, honestly. I'm not a good person for you to be around."

"You saved me," she retorted. "I gave you my favorite necklace. How could I ever forget you?" She peeked up to see that he was still wearing it, and her heart fluttered when she saw that he was. She had ignored the part where he said he wasn't a good person for her to be around. That part was clearly just nonsense.

His hand flew unconsciously to touch the metal rings on her gift. He smiled absently.  _No, little one… it is you that saved me._ "We met only briefly, and you were very young," he reminded her.  _I needed you to forget me, so that I wouldn't want to come back._ But he was hopelessly lost in the medicine she provided. Wrong or right, he had to see her.

"I guess," she relented. "But I didn't forget you. You're my friend. I missed you. Did you miss me?" Her heart ached more than she thought it would. Missing Hinata had left her empty inside in a way she had never experienced. She needed this man to love her. She felt so fragile she was threatening to break. All of the brightness in her world had been reduced to this… a pale blue glow off the face of a man she didn't know was Konoha's most wanted mass murderer.

His heart burned for her as well. The naked need in her face was obvious. She was lonely; she was too young to have made any friends and her sister was gone. Hinata had been the closest thing she had had to a friend—he supposed he was the other—and now she was gone. He had mistakenly thought that it was him that needed her; now he could see that the opposite was also true, and the realization of it reeked of danger. Both of them could die because of nights like these, but….She needed him. He would never be able to disappear completely from her life ever again. He tightened his arms around her. "Yes, of course I missed you. How could I not?"

She smiled up at him, and he knew in his soul that he was inexorably lost and found in the same moment.

"Koinu? You won't leave me again, will you?"

Her voice was so painfully lonely, he thought his heart would break. Nonetheless, he did not want to lie to her. "I told you it wasn't good for you to know me. I won't stay away, but I can't stay here, either."

"Why not?" A simple enough question.

He sighed. "I'm not allowed." A vague answer.

The silence stretched. Her tone was accusatory when she spoke. "You aren't going to tell me, are you? Just like you won't tell me your real name."

He couldn't help it. He chuckled softly. He should have known that she was smarter than that, even if she was five years old, but he had to know. "How did you know that Koinu was not my real name? It might be."

"You don't look like a puppy. You look like a deer." He could tell by the look in her eyes that she seriously thought that that was the reason. "But if you tried to tell me your name is Deer, I'd know you were lying because you already lied."

His mouth snapped shut as he was about to attempt to tell her just that. Wisdom from a five year old. He shook his head ruefully. "Maybe someday, Hanabi. For now, I need you not to know. I believe that if I tell you, you will not like me so much anymore, and for right now I need you to like me, okay?" He froze, waiting for her judgment. He hoped that what he had said would be enough. If she didn't want to be his friend anymore, he probably would kill himself. She was all he had left of the old Itachi.

She took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. "I don't  _think_  I would stop liking you, but okay. You'll feel better to keep it secret, and that's something I can respect."

The soul that lived in her was far older than five, he decided. He relaxed. "Thank you."

A moment passed, and then more questions. "Did you ever find your brother?" It was an innocent enough question, and given her recent events, it was completely understandable.

He felt as if a lance had been driven through his heart. His throat constricted. It took all of his effort to answer. "No," he croaked out.

"You have to find who took him, and you have to kill that person," she said, her voice hard and cold as ice. It was a side of her that chilled him, but made him admire her nonetheless. Somewhere, lurking in all of that innocent, childish energy, there was a dark and fearsome Shinobi waiting to blossom. Her nails dug into his knee as she said it, and he winced. "That's what you said I should do."

He hadn't actually. She'd said that, but he didn't correct her. "I will," he vowed, the threat empty. He did intend to reunite with Sasuke, someday, but he doubted very much that Hanabi would like the results, since he intended to be killed in the process.

"Good," she said. "By the way… that's a very pretty cloak." She smiled into his knee. He felt the muscles in her face.

"Thanks." He'd never given it much thought. It was the cloak that had been given to him, and it kept him warm. The colors suited him, though, he supposed.

Itachi tipped his head back and watched the moon and stars, his back to the cold wall of Konoha. It was an odd sensation, to be back home yet not. He still felt as if it was home, but he was not welcome here. Still, being able to look up at the night sky in the Leaf Village, to see the stars and the moon from the same point of view as any other civilian would, was calming. Even more so was the warm bundle snuggled into his lap, her breathing slowing as she drifted off to sleep.

Before long, she was snoring softly and, remembering the puddle of drool from earlier, he decided it was time to return her to her room. Carefully, so as not to disturb her slumber, he curled her body into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her little body protectively, then made the leap over the wall and back into the Hyuuga grounds.

Once she was settled safely into her bed, he pulled the covers up to her chin. Remembering how it was he had found her, he tucked one of the other pillows into her arms. Reflexively, she wrapped her arms around it and hugged it tight. She buried the side of her face into it and sighed with content. Idly, he wondered who she thought that it was. Maybe it didn't matter to her; she seemed like the kind of person who could find the good in anyone and love them to bits and pieces.

He made to leave, striding over to the window. He had one leg on the window sill, and then… "I love you, Koinu," she whispered in her sleep. Another lance shot through his heart, this time without the pain. Love, pure undiluted love, was a shock to his system. It sent a warm feeling flooding through his muscles, starting in his chest and streaking all the way out to his fingertips and toes. From head to toe he felt warmer, and the feeling bloomed slowly that everything would, somehow, be okay. He heard the sheets rustle as she squeezed the pillow. Astonished, he turned back to the scene. She was smiling. His heart and soul were so filled with love that it actually did hurt, then. He swallowed a lump in his throat and struggled to form words.

"I love you, too, Hanabi Hyuuga."

When he arrived at Rendezvous 3, Kisame was already there. "Ah. I only just arrived myself. What a shame. I thought you might have actually died this time." He must have seen something in Itachi's expression, because the grin faded and steadied into a line across his face. "I don't know how to describe it, Itachi, but you look… better somehow."

Back to normal, if normal was what this was. No more emotions. He hid the smile that he felt imprinted in his heart. "I'm fine, Kisame. Did you hear from Leader?"

Kisame quirked an eyebrow. "You know as well as I do that when Leader wants something, he'll make it really fucking obvious."

"Right," he answered, not even caring.  _I love you, Koinu._

_I love you, Koinu._

_I love you._

* * *

 

Daylight burned through her eyelids. She groaned and turned over, covering her head with the blanket. She absolutely did not want to get up. Why was she so tired? Slowly, the fog cleared from her brain, and she knew, tragically, that she would not be going back to sleep. "Nooo…" she mourned. That was when she remembered her night with Koinu. Her eyes popped open. "Koinu," she whispered.

Her feelings for the stranger were confusing, and yet not at the same time. Deep within her soul, she felt a connection that she absolutely refused to sever. Despite that, she knew it was wrong for her to talk to strangers, let alone trust this one as intrinsically as she did. Nevertheless, when she imagined life without him, she felt empty, just as she felt empty without Hinata.

She flipped the coverlet of her bed back and sat up, dragging a hand across her eyes. She rubbed at the corners to remove the sleep crusts and yawned. She felt groggy and tired, probably because she'd woken up in the middle of the night. She blinked and looked around the room, then out the window. The sun was already pretty high in the sky. Dimly, she wondered why her father hadn't woken her. Something must be keeping him occupied today. No training, then.

That was all well and so. She had something she wanted to do today. She dressed and made her way to the garden. That was where she usually found her mother. Hanako Hyuuga was very fond of her flower garden. It was rare for her to crave her mother's attention; oddly enough, she preferred her harsh and demanding father. Though she wasn't fully aware of the reason, it likely was because the frailty of her mother's condition scared her and made her intensely uncomfortable. She'd been slowly withering away because of some illness that Hanabi did not know the name of, and she was pale and thin. Despite that, Hanako was a cheerful, gentle woman, and she thoroughly enjoyed the company of her children.

Hanabi found her kneeling in contemplation before a bed of zinnias. "Good morning, Mother," she greeted her, sinking to her knobby little knees beside her.

"Good morning, Hanabi," she said, smiling warmly. "How did you sleep?"

"Not well," she answered, wrinkling her nose. "I woke up in the middle of the night." True, but not true. She didn't really like lying.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Hanako said, sounding genuinely concerned. "Nightmares?"

"No, I just didn't sleep well."

Her mother reached for her hand and held it between her own. Hanabi tried very hard to ignore the boniness of her mother's hands. They were not as fleshy or warm as they used to be. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Did you want to ask me something, Hanabi?" her mother asked politely. Mothers had a strange magic that allowed them to sense when something was bothering their children.

Hanabi thought about it, trying to decide how to approach the topic. "Um… there's this guy…" At first, she couldn't understand her mother's panic-stricken look as she regarded her daughter, a mere five years old. She blinked as her mother gaped, fear naked in her eyes.

"Surely you're not interested in boys already?!" she asked incredulously. The poor woman thought she still had several years before she needed to think about having that particular conversation.

Hanabi dissolved in a fit of giggles. "No, Mother!" she managed to squeak between laughs. "No it's not like that. I don't like boys that way." She paused. "At least, I don't think so. That's what's confusing." She hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I like him, and I miss him when he's gone, but it's like how I feel when I miss Hinata."

Her mother's countenance wilted with sadness at the mention of her eldest daughter's name. It had not been her choice to disown Hinata. In fact, her condition had worsened since she'd been sent away. Hinata had been her first daughter. She didn't really have a favorite daughter—she loved them both fervently and equally—but Hinata was most like her, and they had shared a very close bond. "You feel lonely, and empty," Hanako whispered, and Hanabi knew that the pain she felt with Hinata gone was similar. She nodded, and Hanako sighed. They sat there in uncomfortable silence, collecting their thoughts.

"I have a theory, about love," Hanako began, finally. Hanabi sat quietly, politely listening. "It is said that every person has one true soul mate. It is that person that they can feel an undeniable connection with, someone they cannot live without. This is the origin of the theory of love at first sight, the idea that you know immediately if you love somebody without the need for spoken words." She smiled, a secret little private smile for herself. "Your father is my soul mate." Hanabi couldn't help but smile, too, though she found it difficult to comprehend how anyone could feel those kinds of deep feelings for her plain-faced, stiff and formal father.

"But," she continued. "I have a different theory. I think that a person can have more than one soul mate. It's just that you have different kinds. Your father is my romantic soul mate. He is the only one I will ever love, the only man who can rule my heart. I've had friends throughout my lifetime, though, that I've felt as if I could not live without them, even though I'd never want to marry them. Almost as if they were my brothers or sisters, the ones I chose. Do you know what I am saying?"

"Yes," she responded carefully, even though she didn't.

Hanako seemed to sense that, and further reiterated. "It may be that you love this boy, but like a brother instead of like the way I love your father. Perhaps, deep within your heart and soul, he is part of the family you have chosen, instead of the family you were born with." Then, almost as an afterthought, she whispered, "And that would be a very good thing, with this family."

Hanabi pretended she hadn't heard that. She understood that her mother had some difficulty in adjusting to the strictness of the Hyuga family, but was too good-natured to say so outright. Her love for Hiashi had kept her silent on family matters; she was devoted to the man who was devoted to the family. Nonetheless, Hanako was concerned for her daughters' well-being in such a family, and was already distressed about Hinata being sent away. It was not her decision, and she could do nothing to undo it.

"I think I understand," she said finally, and she did. She sensed that Koinu was important to her on a bone-deep level. She needed him in her life, but hadn't understood where he fit in. She felt better knowing that her mother agreed that such a relationship was possible. Koinu was like a brother she had chosen, much like the sister she'd been born with. "So he's like a brother."

Hanako smiled and nodded at her youngest. "Yes! By the way, do I know this boy?"

Hanabi frowned and thought about it. "I don't think so," she said finally. "But you'd like him, I think. He's nice."

She leaned her shoulder over and bumped Hanabi's, an attempt at a sideways hug. "I'd like to meet him sometime, if you like him enough to make him your soul brother." She chuckled.

"I don't think he'd like that," Hanabi said honestly. "He seems to be pretty shy."

"Well, okay," her mother said brightly, not at all fazed by the rejection. "Let him know that he's welcome here anytime, though."

"Thanks, Mother," Hanabi said, standing and giving her a hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Hanabi." She blew her a kiss.

As she left her mother in the garden, she idly wondered why she didn't spend more time with her. The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt. Both of them were grieving for the loss of Hinata despite her father's impassiveness. Perhaps it was something they could share. Feeling resolved to enjoy her mother's company more, she headed toward her favorite place.

The wall on the other side of the crevice had become her private sanctuary. There were many positive memories attached to the other side of the wall of Konoha. It was the first place she had met Koinu as she'd wandered lost into the wilderness, and just last night he'd brought her here again. Before that, though, she had come here often, alone, to remember the first time she'd met the strange-eyed ninja.

This was where she came when she needed peace and quiet. She'd come here to cry when Hinata had gone away. She still came here to cry when she missed her especially much. She came here to think about Koinu and the way she felt about him, and she came here when she was angry with her father. On rare occasions, she came here because she was frightened to see her vibrant mother wilting like a frostbitten spring blossom. Lately, it was where she came to practice her chakra control.

At five, she was just beginning to explore the limits and feel of her own chakra. As a Hyuuga, there was a certain elegance to the depth of connection with chakra. Most people understood that chakra was needed to meld into jutsu. Most people understood that hand signs were needed to meld that chakra, and that chakra could be focused to any part of the body. Most people were not Hyuugas, though. Hyuugas knew the location of every tenketsu, or chakra point, in the body. She had always known that there were 361 tenketsu, and she knew where each was. Now, on the cusp of blooming into her abilities, she was becoming aware of how her chakra acted within her.

She sat cross-legged, her back to the wall. She didn't bother with the usual hand sign for focusing her chakra. There was more to it than that, for her. She shut her eyes and let her consciousness travel to the flow of chakra within her body. She felt the life force rippling through her limbs, thrilling through her system like a river of life itself. When she felt that the connection was bright within her, when she felt that she knew the flow, direction, and power of her chakra, she began testing. Mentally, she pushed here and there, urging the use of each and every one of her 361 chakra points. She wasn't very good at it yet. It felt… bulgy. She certainly didn't have the delicate control needed to form the bursts of chakra into the needle sharp points that most of her family could achieve, but it was a start. Once she could gain the control she needed, she'd be able to fully awaken her Byakugan and practice the Gentle Fist.

After several hours of concentration, she tipped her head back against the wall and rested. Sweat beaded on her brow from exertion, and she let her mind wander. Her first thought, as usual, was for Hinata. She felt a pang of loneliness pinch her heart. She wondered what Hinata was doing now. Was she well on her way to becoming a fantastic ninja? She sighed heavily. It was more likely that Hinata was terrified, failing miserably, and on her way to an early death. She loved her sister, but the truth was the truth: Hinata was too gentle to be a successful ninja. If she were placed in a life or death situation, it would be death.

It dawned on her that her palms hurt. She looked down at them with surprise. She had dug her nails into her own hands so deeply that she had drawn blood. She grated her teeth with anger, at the situation with Hinata, though, not at the blood trickling through her fingers. It was so unfair. If anything, Hinata should be here learning to be the head of household, not her. She should be the one training to be a ninja, sent away from the household. Hinata was perfect: polite, pretty, gentle, and strong-hearted, unlike her.

Her second thought was for Koinu. He was still a mystery, and that was something she was not altogether comfortable with. Part of her was nervous; why would he keep his true name from her, and why was he so scared to tell her about his past and about his brother? At the same time, she really did not care. He was a ninja; surely, he had killed people. Despite that, she felt completely, one hundred percent safe in his company, and she felt that she needed him on the level of intuition that she still did not understand.

_You said no one could ever take your sister away from you….you said you'd kill whoever tried._

_You said you'd kill whoever tried._

Anger bubbled up from her gut. Blindness overtook her, and in that moment, she felt chakra surge through her entire system like an inferno. She felt hot, and dizzy, and for a stretched moment, she panicked, heart racing. She slammed her fist into the wall of Konoha, leaving a perfect circle of chakra-ridden angst cracked into the wall.

And then, silence and calm, perfect. She was alive, more so than ever before, and she could  _see_. She saw through the wall of Konoha, through the walls of her house, and into the garden where her mother still knelt. She was crying. Why?

And then, just as suddenly, it was gone, and she felt normal. Average. Bereft. She sat still, momentarily stunned, but she knew what had just happened. Her Byakugan had awoken. Alone, slumped against the wall, she smiled. "I will save you, sister," she whispered. Her birthright was her own, now. There would be no stopping her progress. She would train as hard as she could, with or without her father's help, and she  _would_  get her sister back.

She returned to the garden where Hanako still knelt, tears streaming down her face. Wordlessly, she wrapped her small arms around the broken woman. "I love you, Mother," she whispered. "We'll get her back." Her mother's hands grasped her arms, their grip on her flesh weaker than they should have been. She didn't respond, just sobbed, and a piece clicked into place.

Her mother was grieving, too, just as privately as she had been.


	9. Window to the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 years post massacre

The weather was… who even cared? It was chilly, cold, and wet. And yet, there was Itachi, sitting with his back against an abnormally large rock, the chill of the wet and the cold of the rock seeping into his body. He shivered uncontrollably, and yet he didn't really care. Let him freeze to death. Konoha would celebrate. Sasuke would celebrate. And Hanabi… would be better off without him, he decided.

Oddly, he wavered back and forth about his feelings for the girl. When he was in a good mood, or when he was on the edge of despair, or when he was with her, he loved her. Her smile saved him. Her company calmed him. She was his light in dark places. He knew, deep down, that he needed her to survive. She gave him something to live for that made sense; he knew he was staying alive for Sasuke to kill him, but that wasn't enough to keep him going on a mundane, day-to-day basis. The promise that he could see Hanabi again and bask in her happiness helped him wake up each day, face the terrors he needed to face, and get through the dreadful tasks that Tobi had assigned.

And then, some days, his stubborn protective instincts took root and he tried to talk himself out of it. He was a danger to her, simply by having these affections. If anyone ever found out, especially Tobi and Kisame, Hanabi was in grave peril. If either of them needed leverage to harangue him into doing whatever they wanted, he knew she'd be a bargaining chip in whatever dastardly plan either or both of them could hatch up to control him. It wasn't fair to her. He did not want to be the reason she was killed. If her bright, fiery spark of defiance was snuffed out before she could really put her attitude to work—because of him—he would feel wretched, and there truly would be no more reason to live. He spent most days resisting that love, hoping that by denying it day after day that it would die out and leave the young girl in peace. It was, unfortunately, revived—and with a vengeance—when he realized that even if he could let her go—which he couldn't—that she would never let him go. She'd be lonely and sad and missing him, and she'd feel betrayed if he never saw her again. He was trapped.

For whatever reason, today was just a very bad day. Some days, Itachi just woke up wrong. Everything was awful. Beautiful things hurt his soul and made him sad, sad things dredged up memories and made him sad. He woke up in a foul mood and he couldn't shake it, and so instead he was embracing it. That was all there was left to do. Besides, it felt wrong of him to ignore the negative emotions that occurred when he remembered his family. If the pain of killing them ever went away, wouldn't that make him the monster that everyone believed he was? Only by acknowledging the suffering that he'd brought upon himself did he feel like himself: a boy who'd made the biggest mistake of his entire life and lost everything. A boy without a home.

As of today, it had been three years to the day since that painful night, and it was almost as if it had happened yesterday. He still heard their screams. They sang to him as he slept, cutting through whatever dreams he was having and waking him from a dead slumber. Nothing he could do would ever shake the sound of their screams, their cries for mercy, and worst of all, the million dollar question:  _why? Why, Itachi? What have I done? I don't want to die._  Surely the children didn't need to die, too. Surely all of the children were innocents, like Sasuke. The youngest that he had cut down was a babe in arms. Emotionless and cold, he'd killed her. It didn't matter that her mother was shrieking as he snatched the infant from her; the girl  _smiled_  up at him anyway, still too unwise to mistrust, and he killed her.

Even that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it all was that finally, inevitably, he had forgotten the faces of his parents. He knew only one of their features. His mother had dark hair. His father had a distinctive frown. He couldn't see their eyes, and he forgot how tall they were. That is where he was with this current predicament. He was hoping, morosely, that the cold and the pain would jar his memory and that even one tiny detail might resurface. He was searching every single memory he could from his life, searching for that one happy memory in which he could see their faces.

When he remembered the sensation of hot blood splashing across his face and yet still couldn't recall her face, he felt sick. He actually vomited, leaning forward to halfheartedly try to miss his pants.

It was at this moment that he tried to use Hanabi as a means of saving him from his wretchedness. With the hot sticky feeling of blood on his face and nausea in his belly, he tried to remember her face as she held up her simple necklace with her child's pride. Instead, the memories clashed and coalesced together like a breaking tide, and it backfired. Instead, he saw her face, eyes wide with shock, and felt her blood splash across his face. Like a cruel joke, the emotionless way of the Shinobi reclaimed him and he felt absolutely nothing as she died for a sharp, distinct, and very brief instant. It pissed him off.

"Itachi, you're going to die if you keep sitting by this frozen rock. Come sit by the fire," Kisame said with concern. Kisame had chosen that moment to grab him roughly at the shoulder. He had been watching the younger ninja battle his inner demons for several moments already, and when he'd vomited up the remains of their meager rations, he decided enough was enough. Big fucking mistake.

Itachi's icy fingers wrapped around the man's throat and crushed the windpipe within it. His face was a blind mix of rage and all the evils of hell as he turned those blood red Sharingan eyes on his partner. He pulled Kisame in, dragging the fearsome face within inches of his own. The look upon Itachi's face was like that of a feral wolf. The words he spoke to Kisame, the Monster of the Hidden Mist, would haunt the man for the rest of his life. "Now I am become death*," he said as the tomoe in his eye swirled and spun. Kisame felt cold fear trickle up his spine. He had never intended to make eye contact with the Sharingan. Something had Itachi really pissed off, and he'd jumped right into the middle of it, for no reason other than that he was worried about his partner's declining health.

When Itachi's eyes were done swirling, they stopped at the Mangekyou, and Kisame nearly pissed himself. He knew what was coming. He had never experienced it before, but was certain that he'd be a ruined man when it was finished. Itachi's voice snarling "Tsukuyomi," was hardly necessary. Kisame knew what it was. Oh, did he know!

He blinked. When his eyelids fluttered open, he was standing on a street in the middle of a village. He presumed it was Itachi's. He found he was able to turn his head and look around, but his feet were rooted to the spot. The sky was red, but the clouds were black, grey, and swollen and moving far too fast across the sky. Everywhere, crows barked and swooped. Kisame found his eye drawn to the sky to see them and where they were going.

Itachi's voice startled him from his scene. "Kisame, you overstep your bounds." Kisame whirled to face the young man with the glaring red eyes. He took a few steps toward Kisame, all of his body concealed by his Akatsuki gear except for his toes and his eyes. Kisame had never been on the receiving end of Itachi's technique, and he now understood very, very well why people feared the Uchiha clan. Itachi was iced over, lazily playing with his prey and full of silent confidence that there was no way it could escape. Itachi's face was calm, impassive, a complete opposite of what it had been just a moment before. Here, in this realm, he was master, and Kisame was utterly powerless.

"Where is this?" he asked dumbly, trying desperately to avoid the frosty gaze of his partner.

"In Tsukuyomi, I control time, space, and everything in it. Welcome to my hell." Itachi's cold eyes fixed on the taller man and remained.

Kisame didn't have a chance to get into a staring contest with Itachi. All around him, people appeared. They all had delicate, blank faces, and they moseyed along on either side of him, making their way down the street in this village. Then, a dark shape started to move among them. It was Itachi in a different uniform. One by one, the wraith Itachi raised his sword and brought it down. None of the people surrounding them put up a fight. They merely turned to face the clone of Itachi and accepted their death at his hands like dumb animals at slaughter. One by one, each and every one of the phantom people in the street fell and lay motionless.

Then, when the last one hit the ground with a dull squish and a thud, to a corpse every one of them began shrieking, yelling, and screaming at the top of their lungs, faces twisted with pain and mouths as wide open as they would go, jaws threatening to crack from the strain. All of the children, also screaming, stood shakily to their feet and ran to and fro among the adults, tearing out chunks of their own hair, blank eyes in blank faces streaked with black tears in this strange world. They ran too close to Kisame, and he felt repelled, afraid that if he touched one of them, something even more dreadful would happen.

When all of the children were running and screaming, the adults all suddenly stopped so that the only voice in the air was a young boy's, magnified by a thousand other throats with the same voice. The wraith Itachi moved among them, calmly and effectively cutting down all of the children one more time.

When all of the children had fallen, the place fell completely silent. Kisame already felt like he was losing his mind. His place in Akatsuki had happened because he disliked killing his own comrades and he doubted the justice in it. Where was his place in the world? He'd killed children, sure, but he had never liked it. This… methodical way in which he'd seen Itachi kill these children… it was monstrous. He fell to his knees and tried to place his face in his hands, but he found that he was unable to tear his eyes away.

Then, there was a scrabbling noise. One of the children clambered to her feet, her too-large eyes a dull black. Once again, all of the little children struggled to stand, and when they were all mobile once more, they started screaming again. Kisame wanted to plug his ears, or gag the phantom children, or anything to drown out the sound. Then he felt ashamed for having even had the thought as ghost Itachi made the rounds once again, cutting down the undead children and silencing them once more. Over and over again, the children were revived, began wailing, and were cut down to silence by the deadly figure that resembled Itachi Uchiha. He didn't know how long it lasted.

And then, blessedly, after what felt like days, he opened his eyes and saw that the only red in the world was in the center of Itachi's face. After a few moments, even that washed away, and he was left gazing into the black irises of Itachi. And not only that, this close… he could see everything that Itachi had been hiding. The cold reincarnation of Death himself that he'd seen within Tsukuyomi was not the Itachi Uchiha that shivered and stared at him like a scared rabbit through the black of those eyes. Constant terror lived there. This was Itachi's secret.

He was not a killer at all.

Itachi relinquished the grip on Kisame's wrist and they practically flew apart. Itachi remained with his back to the rock, though his head banged roughly into it, and Kisame fell hard backward onto his buttocks, rubbing his throat and staring at Itachi with new eyes, utterly in shock. For his part, the Uchiha looked away, uncomfortable with eye contact suddenly. Kisame didn't need a doctor to tell him that his throat would be bruised, but it didn't matter. He'd suffered worse wounds.

This new revelation changed everything between the two of them, Kisame knew. While Itachi knew just about everything there was to know about Kisame Hoshigaki, Itachi Uchiha was more or less a mystery. Kisame had few secrets, and none of them would get him or anyone else killed. This, though… this was  _rich_. The images he had seen were not immediately obvious, but Kisame was no fool. He'd figured out mostly everything that he needed to know. The rest was just detail.

Itachi had never wanted to kill his clan; that much was obvious.

Something about killing children was especially distasteful.

The event was probably responsible for his usual moodiness and his quiet way.

This was the kind of information that would get Itachi killed if he wasn't careful. If he wanted to, Kisame knew he had this man. He could take down the great Clan Killer, the embodiment of fear, easily. And yet… he found he actually liked Itachi. There was something about him… at sixteen, he was a killing machine—if it was needful (it was an important distinction he now found himself seeing). He was also mostly quiet, which made him good company. It meant that Kisame had become the interesting one and the funny one all rolled into one. Furthermore, he decided that Itachi Uchiha as a living friend was probably more useful than Itachi Uchiha as a dead enemy. No one would ever fuck with him. Like…ever.

Many minutes passed and neither of them moved. Kisame still wasn't sure how to proceed or what to say. Itachi, for his part, was mentally kicking himself. This was why Shinobi didn't show emotions. This was why he kept such a tight reign on his feelings. He'd let a particularly low moment in his dark thoughts get the best of him, and now his extremely dangerous and untrustworthy partner knew more than he should. He'd have to kill him, he was certain of it. There really was no going back now.

Finally, Kisame knew what had to be done. He looked at Itachi's face, getting as close to making eye contact as he could, given that Itachi wouldn't look in his direction. Then he said, quietly, "I have a younger sister. Her name is Kitari. She's nineteen now. ANBU." He paused, huffed out a laugh. Itachi turned just slightly, tuning in his ear. "Little bitch is a fucking killer. That girl tried to kill me a hundred times before I was fifteen years old, and Ma egged her on. Praised her for it, even. I loved her though," he continued. He shrugged. "She's my sister, after all." His eyes flickered to Itachi and back to the ground. "I know you have a brother, that's why I'm saying this. I killed Kitari's boyfriend when I killed those other Mist ninja. Kitten's never forgiven me for it." He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "I bet she's hunting me right now, as we speak. I doubt she will rest until she's run me through. She aspires to this sword, you see. Killing me avenges her slain lover and gains her a position as one of the Seven." He lowered his voice even quieter, meant only for Itachi.

"I know where she lives. She…" he trailed off and swore. "Fuck, I don't know why I'm telling this. I shouldn't be trusting you." He shook himself and continued. "She actually moved into the Waterfall Village. She's usually out there in the field, hunting for me, but around the holiday season she goes back there. I guess she's banging their leader or somesuch. Good for her. She deserves to be happy." He stopped talking, and hoped that his gamble hadn't failed. Meaning he hoped he wasn't about to get him and Kitari killed. As the silence stretched on between them, he felt more and more like a dead man.

Then, miraculously, the corner of Itachi's mouth tilted upward in the barest hint of a smile. "You're too hasty, Kisame," Itachi murmured. "That was a stupid thing you just did." Kisame's heart started racing. He really had done it, hadn't he? "Although, you could very easily have been lying, except that your heartbeat just gave you away. Wise of you not to lie to me," he finished, turning to face him again for the first time. "You've guessed correctly. I am not who I seem."

Kisame smirked, glad that Itachi was talking. Apparently, though, this was not going to be a very quick progression of their friendship, as Itachi had other plans. "Forgive me if I don't wish to share the details of my past. For me, it is still too painful. All I have left of everything I cared about is a little brother whose sole dream in life is to kill me with his own hands. I hear their screams, but I can't see their faces anymore." Kisame waited, but that was all Itachi would say.

Finally, he'd had enough of the cold. "Itachi…whatever has happened to you, I don't think that death by shivering in the freezing rain is what's written for your end." He stood, crossed the few steps between them, and offered his hand to help him up.

Itachi peered up at him miserably from his sentinel position against the rock. He hesitated. Kisame flashed him his best grin—which was, to say, pretty ferocious—and Itachi grasped it and allowed himself to be dragged to his feet. "It is… pretty cold," he admitted, letting Kisame lead him to the fire.

"Fuckin' ay, it is," Kisame grumbled. "And I'm part fish."

Itachi blinked, having the courage to ask this for the very first time. "…Are you really?" It was a rumor that had gotten around the Akatsuki. Although it was too ridiculous to be true, Kisame's countenance was rather odd, and he'd been curious.

His face twisted with amusement. He wondered how much of Itachi's inner child remained, hidden underneath all that steely grace and danger. "Nah… but how else do you explain the weirdness of my hide?"

Itachi huddled in close to the fire, wrapping his heavy cloak around himself. "Do you mean, your sister isn't blue?"

Kisame gripped the collar of Itachi's cloak and murmured, "No, you shouldn't wear this… it's soaked through." Itachi gave him a death glare, but he ignored it and whipped it off of Itachi's shoulders. He hung it on a low hanging limb to dry. Almost immediately, Itachi stopped shivering as the heat from the flames warmed his frozen flesh. "And no, Kitari is not blue. Or, well, her hair is. She's beautiful. But don't ever say that to her face unless you want to be stabbed. I would know." He dragged the corner of his shirt down a few inches to show Itachi the puckered pale skin of scars. "Little bitchling got me good!" He laughed.

For a while, both of them merely enjoyed the fire and concentrated on warming through. Down time for Itachi and Kisame was plentiful, though, and boring. Kisame usually liked to fill it with talking, but Itachi didn't seem to like listening much, so he settled for thinking instead.

Kisame had often been intrigued by the much younger Shinobi. Itachi had been thirteen when he'd murdered his entire family. He'd been a ninja since he was barely a toddler. Kisame, being from Blood Mist Village, understood all too well the toll that blood took on a child. He'd only graduated a few years ahead of the class that had been summarily slaughtered by Zabuza Momochi, the Demon of the Mist. Breeding a child into violence changed their outlook on life. Somehow, miraculously, Itachi had held onto his humanity. To most, the question of how he had done that went unanswered—mostly because they didn't know he had any humanity, for starters.

Kisame knew the answer, because for him, the answer was the same. Kisame pretended to be a monster. It was an easier act for him, since he looked the part. Fear was already instilled in the opponent upon seeing his animalistic features. A threat here, wave a big sword in that guy's face over there, and people would see what they wanted to see. Deep beneath the surface though, he wanted to be human, and he held onto the last shreds of his humanity fiercely. The answer was easy: love.

It seemed stupid, but Kisame held onto the childish hope that, someday, Kitari would forgive him and he could retire from his Akatsuki life. The only place he had ever felt that he belonged was with his sister, and he'd ruined it when he'd killed her lover, orders or no orders. Now, his home went with her wherever she went even as she sought to kill him. Itachi and he had more in common than either of them had thought, it turned out. Kisame was willing to bet that Itachi held a similar hope about the future between him and his little brother, in a deeper, darker, more secret place than he himself kept his own ghost of whisper of a hope.

Kisame stole a glance at his comrade. Itachi's gaze was strained. Whatever it was that had been bothering him hadn't waned.  _At least he's not in the cold and the rain anymore_ , thought Kisame. Even Shinobi could die of exposure. His thoughts drifted to his younger sister, Kitari. Actually, he had lied, just a little. She didn't have blue hair, and she wasn't beautiful. She was downright frightening… built like a brick shithouse, hair chopped short, orangey blonde. He  _had_  failed to mention that she wasn't interested in guys at all. Her lover had been female. She wasn't banging the leader of the Waterfall Village, but she  _was_  always at his side… since she was his new bodyguard. Okay, so maybe he had lied a lot, but most of it was accurate. He hadn't lied about how much he cared for his sister.

He knew exactly how Itachi felt about his younger brother. He hoped the kid, whoever he was, knew somewhere deep in his soul that Itachi loved him so much.  _What a fucked up family, though,_ he thought. He was sure there was a really good story in there somewhere, though he doubted he'd ever get to hear it.

A couple of hours passed by the fire. Neither of them spoke. It was, after all, one of the things Kisame liked about Itachi as an Akatsuki partner: he wasn't irritating. Also, there was a sort of fragile boyishness to him that made Kisame feel a bit like an older brother himself. Itachi hid it extremely well, but Kisame, who spent nearly every waking minute with the teenager, could see that he was suffering on all of the levels of hell one could imagine. Finally, Itachi's arm thumping to the ground beside him announced that the younger man had fallen asleep sitting up. Kisame smiled to himself and, using a toe and one long leg, he tipped the ninja over onto his back. Itachi managed to fall to the ground with grace and immediately curled into the fetal position. "Awww," Kisame exclaimed humorously. Then, he retrieved Itachi's now-dry cloak from the branch and draped it over his slumbering form. He made a note to discuss taking care of himself tomorrow. If Itachi wasn't careful, his body would deteriorate and he'd catch any manner of diseases floating around in the air.

Suddenly, there was a colorful ripple in the air above the fire. Kisame trained his eyes intently to the hologram, knowing what was next. A dark, rainbow colored projection of Leader flickered in the air before him. "Kisame, Itachi," he intoned. "The plan is ready. We need to meet. There is much to discuss before we can begin."

Itachi did not appreciate being awakened. He particularly hated it, in fact, when it was still dark outside when he was awakened. He hated it the most, though, when he was being awakened to be told this specific phrase, though. "Leader has summoned us to meeting," Kisame told him flatly. Nothing to be happy about… it meant killing was involved. Nothing to be too upset about…it meant that they had something to do finally.

Itachi rubbed the sleep out of his eyes roughly with his hands. He stared blearily at his partner, sucked in a heavy breath, let it out in a sigh, and pushed himself to his feet. "Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds." -Oppenheimer
> 
> I was just re-reading this for the first time in months (editing and all that jazz) and realized I'm pretty good at foreshadowing. Are you an attentive reader? Did you catch it? :D


	10. Numbness

Timeline=4 years 4 months post massacre

* * *

 

Ugh, the window was especially bright this morning. Hanabi groaned and rolled over, trying to stave off the morning. It wasn't working. She yanked the blanket over her head and shut her eyes. Many times, she found she was able to slip back into sleep and get right back to the dream she was having.

Apparently, not today. She hated it when she woke up before she was ready. Sighing with defeat, she threw back the comforter and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She rubbed the bleariness out of her eyes and tried to ignore the glare from the window. Even through her eyelids, it was burning her to the retinas. Pale eyes were terrible for sunshine; they burned all the more. Slowly, very slowly, she located clothing from the pile on her floor and dressed. It had been pretty cold, lately, so she dressed in long pants and a snug long sleeved shirt. She tied her hair back in two braids; it was easier to stuff on a beanie hat that way. Finally, dreading the moment, she turned her eyes to the window to take in the day and guess at the time. What she saw there delighted her.

It was snowing.

Konoha rarely received snowfall; even in the wintertime, it was usually pretty temperate. There were cold days, of course, but an actual snowfall was uncommon. Therefore, Hanabi, like most of Konoha's inhabitants, adored snow. If it did snow in Konoha, it was customary to declare that day a holiday so that everyone could enjoy the strange weather. That explained why her father had not woken her up today.

The view from her window was strange. In the garden, there were still lots of plants that bore flowers. Beneath the coat of snow, the reds, pinks, and yellows of the blossoms glowed through the sprinkling of white powder _. It's like they are asleep,_ she thought. Asleep beneath a soft, cold blanket. She was grateful that her bed was so warm. She loved the snow, but she hated the cold. It was complicated. Oddly enough, the birds outside were still chirping. She wondered what they were saying. Were they upset that the snow was impeding their ability to find food beneath the frozen ground? Or were they, like she was, excited about the rare snow day? She watched as a pair of tiny brown birds hopped about on the top layer of snow, tilting their heads from side to side and zigzagging. One of them ruffled its feathers and shook itself, then dipped its head into the snow. It emerged with a snowy white cap, peeped, and then shook itself again. They were playing, she decided.

"Is that your sister, too?" she asked the bird. It didn't hear her, of course. The two birds dipped, shook, and twirled about in the snow. That's what Hanabi wished to do.

With a song in her heart, she added another layer of clothing so she could go outside to play in the snow. There was only one person in the entire world that she wanted to share this day with: Hinata. She skipped through the kitchen, snagging a bagel on her way out the door, hoping not to run into her cousin or her father. Either one of them would likely rope her into some sort of training exercise. Both of them were unnecessarily harsh with her. Neji was clearly taking out some sort of frustrations on her (his facial expressions gave away his rage) and her father was obviously trying to make up for lost time and was driving her to an early death.

Bagel in hand, she threw open the front door and inhaled the frigid air. It made her nostrils freeze together briefly, and she sniffled and giggled. "Hello, World!" she greeted the day, thrusting both hands toward the sky. She nibbled at the bagel and stepped off the porch.

She had no idea where Hinata was. She'd been trying to find her for a few months now, in between training with her father, being cornered by Neji, and her self reflection sessions in which she tried to improve on her Byakugan skills. There was very little free time for her these days. What little of it she did have, she was trying to spend more time with her mother. It was a day in a blue moon that she was able to attempt to locate Hinata.

Well and good… it was a day in a blue moon that it snowed, too, and that gave her hope. Maybe the snow was a sign. She smiled at the thought and began trudging through the snow toward the heart of the Village. She had no idea where to even start today, but she needed to be moving, to feel the cool air on her face and listen to the starchy sounding crunch beneath her shoes. Snow was awesome!

Not fifteen minutes into her walk, she spotted a vision that made her blink with surprise. There was Hinata in her beige jacket and long pants, trudging toward her, eyes on her toes. She stopped dead in her tracks, staring. After only an instant, though, she threw the last quarter of her bagel onto the ground and sprinted toward her sister. "HINATA!" she shrieked with pleasure, streaking toward her sister like a comet.

Hinata's head snapped upward, and she blinked in equal surprise. "Hanabi?" She hesitated only an instant before she started running toward her, too. "HANABI!"

"Hinata!"

Neither of them was braced for the impact properly. Hanabi and Hinata hurtled into each other, arms wide, going down like a pair of fighting eagles with locked talons. The unchecked momentum carried both of them to the snow covered ground, and they went down in a poof of powder snow, giggling as if not a day had passed since they'd last seen each other. It had been one year and three months or so since Hinata had left the house.

"Hinata!" she said breathlessly, again. "I've missed you so much!" She hugged her sister around the middle, ignoring the cold that seeped into her snow-covered fingers.

"Hanabi," she murmured. "I thought for sure I'd never find you in time to play in the snow today."

She smiled broadly at her sister, overjoyed. Her skin was cold, but inside she was so very warm. "I was just coming to look for you! Were you looking for me?" Her heart swelled with pleasure.

"Yes!" She squeezed her younger sister closer. "What will it be? Snowball fight? Building snow Shinobi? Sledding?"

Hanabi was so happy she thought she might cry. It felt as if no time at all had passed since they'd played together. She felt like she was three all over again. And, Hinata had been coming to find her! It erased all of her doubts that her sister might ever forget her. More than a year had gone by, and their bond was just as strong as ever. Some things would never change. "Oh come on, Hinata. You  _know_  we have to build a fort!"

Hinata grinned cheekily. "Okay.  _Then_  we can have a snowball fight."

Hanabi's mouth dropped open with gleeful surprise. "YES! That's perfect!" Having a fort or two to maneuver around while they pelted each other with snowballs was the best way to spend any snow day.

"Race you to the Academy!" Hinata exclaimed, already dashing off ahead of her in the snow.

"Hey! No fair!" she shrieked, stumbling after her. At eleven years old, Hinata was taller and had longer legs. She bounded across the snow like a deer, and soon had left Hanabi far behind. She'd also been training; even if Hinata was a slow learner in the Shinobi world, she had the advantage here. Hanabi pouted—though it was mostly just for show—as her much shorter legs betrayed her in the deep snow. She stumbled and fell several times. She was freezing after a few facefuls of snow, but she didn't even care. Hinata was with her and her heart was warm. Chilly skin was not going to ruin  _this_  day.

By the time Hanabi had struggled onto the recreational field of the academy, Hinata had already begun rolling up large snowballs for her fort walls. Other children were already there, engaged in various wintry activities. Some threw snowballs; many were trying to build snow ninja. Still others were content just to try to catch snowflakes on their tongues or dig tunnels. "Hey, slowpoke!" Hinata called to her. "I'm going to be hitting you with missiles before you build your fort walls!"

"As if!" Hanabi shot back. "I'm going to build mine out of ice and break your head against it!" Both of them knew she was joking; neither of them could ever truly hurt the other.

As with most things, Hanabi had a natural talent for this. Both sisters finished the construction of their snow forts around the same time. Then, each set about building up ammo; they arranged a huge pile of snowballs in special compartments built into the walls. Before long, other kids had caught on, and each sister had a small following of disciples to add to their armies. The newcomers fortified the existing walls and made snowballs.

"Ready? Aim! FIRE!" Hinata shouted, and the war began.

The sky filled with white, blurry projectiles as snowballs were hurled between their two armies. "DIE! DIE! DIE!" both captains shouted across the field, laughing as they attacked. Children from both sides screamed and hooted with triumph when one of their snowballs connected with the enemy. Hanabi sent a contingent with a few snowballs to skirt around the back of Hinata's fort. The three boys she had sent were deliciously successful; all three of them pelted Hinata herself with half of their snowballs and came flying back laughing.

Hinata, of course, retaliated. She dusted the snow off her jacket and shook it from her hair, then sent two girls, both just about to graduate the academy and well versed in taijutsu, to counterattack. They leapt, one after the other, over the wall of Hanabi's fort and rained snow down on the enemy. Hanabi's forces had no choice but to duck and protect their heads.

Meanwhile, an unauthorized warrior hurtled toward the wall of Hinata's fort and plowed straight through it. Hinata cried out with despair at the efforts to her wall wasted. Immediately, a small support force began repairing the damage wall as Hinata mounted a counterstrike. Two of her army had constructed larger snow boulders. The older children on Hinata's team had the size and strength advantage, and those that had learned to utilize chakra to aid with chucking snowballs were a major asset to her team. The two large snow bombs crashed through Hanabi's wall.

It was on. Both armies abandoned the forts entirely and charged at each other with snowballs. The end was bloody, and brief. Most of the budding ninja on each team ended up with facefuls of snow, and then, the war was over. There were no more snowballs, and the kids of both warring nations were exhausted and cold. They stood, sat, or lay down where they'd surrendered, smiling and laughing with common joy.

Captains Hanabi and Hinata met in the center of the battlefield and shook hands somberly, acknowledging a battle well fought. Hanabi clasped Hinata around the wrist and made what she hoped was an expression worthy of Hiashi. Hinata did the same thing, both girls attempting to make the most severe face possible in an imitation of their over-serious father. Realizing that both of them were doing the same mocking impression of their father, they both dissolved in a fit of giggles and rolled about in the snow.

Hanabi sighed with contentment. Then Hinata did the same thing. Then, realizing that they had inadvertently copied each other again, they both cracked up again. "I love you, Hinata," Hanabi breathed.

"I love you, too, Hanabi," she said in return.

Their hands found each other's in the snow.

Life could not have been more sweet. Despite everything that was happening at home, Hanabi found herself happy and optimistic. Her father was overbearing, but she found that training was a fulfilling time in her day despite that. He was tough, but she loved him anyway. Her mother was frail and sickly, but she found that she was still able to appreciate her kindness and the common love they shared for Hinata. She missed Koinu, but she knew in her heart of hearts that he would always be looking out for her. And now, she had her sister back, and no one was going to get between them ever again.

She squeezed her sister's hand and smiled. Hinata squeezed back.

"Hanabi! Hanabi! Hanabi!" The voice was a familiar one. It was Ko. She and Hinata both sat up at the same time, wondering to what was owed the urgency in his tone. Hanabi waved to save the poor man the trouble of hunting her down, eyes wide. Ko fell to his knees before her, panting heavily. "Oh, Hinata, you're here, too. That's good." It couldn't have been that good; he wasn't smiling. His eyes were wide with fear and he looked upset.

"What's wrong, Ko?" Hinata asked him, laying a hand on his arm.

His hands both reached for hers, and his eyes relayed all the distress that was needed. "Hinata…" he said sadly. Hanabi ignored the slight pang of jealousy. Ko was Hinata's guardian long before he had been hers. The next sentence made his attention to her make even more sense. "Your lady mother has been rushed to the hospital."

Hinata and Hanabi both gasped with shock. Hinata latched onto her younger sister, borrowing her strength. Hanabi found it passing odd that, at a moment like this, she had become the strong one, but she understood. Hinata had always been closest to their mother. Hanabi had only recently tried to be closer to her, but she'd related better to her father. Hinata's kindness was purely a gift from their mother. Hanabi's wicked core and sassy attitude had been more of a curse that a gift, and had clearly been bestowed upon her by her father's genes.

Hinata was already crying. Hanabi was mostly just in shock.

Numbly, they walked to the hospital together, holding hands and saying nothing. Ko trailed a respectable distance behind. No one said anything. Nothing needed to be said. Young they might have been, but neither had been blind to the fact that their mother was dying slowly. They'd dealt with it in the ways they thought were best; Hanabi had avoided the scene to avoid the pain of their mother's weakness until recently, which had been exactly how Hiashi himself had handled it, and Hinata had tried to spend as much time with Hanako as possible, trying to make as many memories with the fleeing soul as she could.

The moment was here, though, and they both knew it. Soon, perhaps today, there would no longer be a Hanako Hyuuga. Today had gone from being the best day ever to the worst day ever in a matter of moments. Life was cruel.

A too-busy nurse impatiently pointed down the hallway. Apparently, the snow was bad for the general health of the Village. Nurses and doctors rushed to and fro. Gurneys dashed down the hallways with bags of fluids on metal trees. Everywhere, a medic was shouting for something, or someone. Constant noise.

Hinata and Hanabi were silent.

The door to their mother's room was plain and boring. A chalkboard was hung outside, and on it was scrawled "Huga, Hannako."  _They'd even spelled her name wrong_ , Hanabi reflected bitterly. It was a plain, anonymous box for her to die in, was all it was. Ko pushed the door open and held it for them, and the two small girls ambled in, nervous and scared that their mother might already be gone.

Their mother was propped slightly on the plain hospital cot. Hanabi wrinkled her nose at the strange, sterile smell. From this day onward, she would forever associate the scent of hospitals with the stench of death, and would avoid them whenever possible, Hanako's eyelids fluttered open weakly as they entered. "My girls?" she whispered hoarsely.

Ko nodded and responded. "Yes, my Lady Hyuuga. Hanabi and Hinata are here." His voice was sad.

Hinata understood that, by asking if they were present, she wanted to see them. She squeezed Hanabi's hand and led her forward. Hanabi absorbed herself into Hinata's side and peered out from her elder sister's back, feeling all of three years old all over again. It was easy to spar, practice, and improve chakra control. All in all, it was frighteningly easy to obtain the skills to become a ninja. Still, she was only six years old, and her mother was dying. She felt tiny, insignificant, and helpless. There was no amount of training that could protect her from the storm of pain she knew was coming, no jutsu that could save her mother from the cold grip of death. Right now, she was just a little girl about to lose her mother. Nothing else mattered.

"Hinata," Hanako whispered, laying a slender, bony hand against the elder daughter's face. "You're so beautiful." A tear slipped down Hinata's face. "Remember, true strength shines forth from the heart. Someday, your kindness will make you the finest Shinobi of all, and I'm so proud of you."

"Mother…" Hinata murmured against her hand. "I'm not ready for you to go," she whined. "We haven't spent nearly enough time together."

"I know," Hanako said gently. "But I will always be in my garden, and you can spend time with me there."

"I…I don't understand," Hinata complained, eyebrows drawn together with confusion.

"You will," Hanako told her with a smile. "I have always believed in you."

The tears spilled down Hinata's face, and she threw her arms around her mother's neck. Hanako patted her back gently. "My baby girl," she cooed. "I wish I could see you finish growing up. What a fine woman you're going to be…"

Hinata sobbed into her shoulder, but she regained her composure. She stubbornly wiped the tears from her eyes and stood demurely at Hanako's bedside, knowing that Hanabi needed her hug, too. Hanako's gaze shifted to her youngest daughter, and she invited her for a hug. "Hanabi, my little firecracker," she said affectionately, pulling the little girl close. "Look after your father for me. He hides it well, but he cares deeply for his family and he loves you both. He's going to need your help, and your love."

Now it was her turn to be confused. Surely, her severe father wasn't so weak as all that? "Mother, I'm confused," she complained.

"Hiashi Hyuuga is not so uncaring," she explained. "He just has a responsibility to the Hyuuga name that he has misinterpreted. He thinks being a Hyuuga is about power, strength, and strict tradition. You must help him to realize that being a Hyuuga is about love and protection. It is from this that our traditions and strength are derived. I know that the both of you will help him to learn that some day, and I wish I could be here to see it. The day of the Hyuuga is just bursting into dawn." She smiled sadly and stroked Hanabi's hair. "Both of you will be the finest kunoichi some day, something I could never be. I am so proud of you both."

She released her hold on Hanabi and rested her head on her pillow. "Most importantly, cherish the bond between you. There is no stronger bond than the bond between siblings. Hanabi, do you remember what I told you about soulmates?" Hanabi nodded, unable to speak for the knot in her throat. Her eyes were leaking. "Siblings are the original soulmates. It is the first bond that you will ever learn to trust. Remember that not every child is as lucky as you are to be born with a sibling. Never let each other go. Protect one another. Love each other. You are the luckiest of all, for there will never come a time when you are completely alone. I am a happy woman, indeed, to see you both together one last time, as sisters and friends."

Hinata wrapped her arms around Hanabi and cried. Hanabi tightened her arms across her own stomach, trying to calm the butterflies and unable to tear her eyes away from the lovely woman who was saying her goodbyes.

Hanako's eyes widened slightly and raised a fraction. Hanabi got the sense that someone else had entered the room. She turned to see her father in the doorway, his face impassive. "Hinata, Hanabi," he said quietly. "Please wait outside."

Accustomed to obeying without question, both girls turned silently away from their mother. Hanabi stole one last glance behind her. What she saw would stay with her forever: Hanako's eyes had met Hiashi's, and deep within them, the soul of her mother had retreated. What she showed to Hiashi was a lie. "Husband," she greeted, all the melodic tones of love absent from the word.

The door shut behind them, and they were alone in the hallway with Ko. He led them away, and none of them spoke. But, Hanabi, at six years old, had in the past few moments learned a few very important things. The first thing she learned was that Hanako Hyuga had worn a mask. For the rest of her life, she would reflect on this mask that her mother had worn. For now, she did not have the depth to realize what it meant, just that her mother had somehow been a different person to her children and to their father. The next thing she immortalized was that Hanako had ached for the two of them in a hundred different ways. She wanted the best for them, was happy that they were close, knew they would love each other forever, and best of all,  _believed_  in them. Their mother's unconditional love would solidify their faith in each other. And finally, the bitterest realization of all was a complex thought that married the two concepts together. It was Hiashi Hyuga that had sent Hinata away, both driving a knife through the heart of his wife and driving a wedge between his daughters.

In other words, it was because of her father that her mother was dead.

Back outside in the snow, Hanabi's mind was as numb as her cold fingers, but neither were as icy as the chilly finger of hatred that had curled around her heart. The world had lost a beautiful soul today, and nothing in the world could fill the hole that she'd left in Hanabi's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on the relationship between Hiashi and Hanako (since it's not written in here). I imagine that Hanako loves him deeply, and is a dutiful and loving wife. Obviously, Hiashi would be a difficult man to be in love with. I think he's got her more or less well-trained in how to show affection in a way that he understands and responds to, by being prim and proper and quiet. How else would he have gotten away with sending Hinata away? I don't see her as a woman with any fire in her, not one to stand up for herself. He hurts her, but she loves the man unconditionally, and takes it. It isn't until this moment, though, that he remembers how much she means to him. You'll see.
> 
> EDIT: I actually turned this into a oneshot: "Wilted"


	11. For Want of a Hug

Timeline=4 years 8 months post massacre

* * *

 

Finally, they were nearing their destination, and not a moment too soon. The weather was absolutely arctic, and Kisame was thoroughly sick of the cold. He flexed his aching fingers on the haft of his great sword. The resounding cracks were not very reassuring. He'd need to go easy on his knuckles for a few days. It was a good thing this was a mission for gathering information, and that they weren't doing anything too dangerous just yet. Still, he was glad for the presence of the clan killer for this one.

He glanced sidelong at his broody companion. Itachi hadn't said much during their journey. Kisame wondered where his thoughts had taken him this time. He thought about asking him, but decided that trust was better when gained slowly, and gave him his space.

"Oy, Itachi," Kisame said, the first words either of them had uttered in over a day. "We're crossing the border into Clay Country now. Do you have a strategy for what needs to be done, or are we just… winging it?"

Itachi didn't bother looking at him. Red eyes focused forward, he was as quiet as a winter evening.

Kisame inhaled and exhaled a few times, trying to reign in his impatience. He rubbed his fingers on his cloak, trying to warm them up, and put forth a monumental effort not to be pissed off by the puffs of steam that emanated from his nostrils. He really wouldn't be surprised if he  _were_  part fish, as cold-blooded as he felt on days like today. When his breath steamed up in puffs around his mouth, no one in hell could make  _him_  go outside.

He froze, metaphorically speaking. He'd realized something important. "Itachi!" he barked, trying to get the man's attention. Itachi's steely red gaze turned slowly to face him, the gaze questioning him.

An empty gaze.

…and Itachi wasn't breathing steamy little puffs of air. Itachi wasn't breathing at all.

"So," he said with satisfaction, suddenly far less excited about this little jaunt knowing he'd made it alone, "that's how it's gonna be, huh? I wonder, though… what was so important that you needed to skip out on a mission assigned by Leader and leave me a shadow clone for company?"

Itachi's red eyes turned away from him, once again fixated on their destination. "It's none of your business," the shadow clone replied.

"Didn't think it was," Kisame grumbled. "I'm just pissed off that I'm cold and you're not. Bet you're off cuddled up with some warm, gorgeous honey somewhere while I toil away in the snow." Part of him wanted to kill the shadow clone just to let off some steam, but at the same time… an illusion of Itachi was scarier than no Itachi at all, and he didn't mind the backup, even if it wasn't half as violent as the real deal.

"Hn."

That was the only reply. He sighed as he took his first step over the border of Clay Country, alone yet not alone.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. He didn't know how he knew, he just…knew. It was odd. He never thought he'd feel this connected to anyone in his entire life. He never felt a connection to Sasuke. Even now. Sasuke was still—and always would be—the most important person in his entire life, but he didn't feel anything like this with him. Somewhere out there, Hanabi was in complete and inexorable distress. He was certain of it, even if he had no proof.

It had started nearly a month ago, but he had tried to ignore it. Slowly, he had gotten the sense that something was bothering his littlest friend. He'd thought he was imagining it and had tried to shake off the feeling, but instead of going away, it had intensified. She was alone, and something was wrong.

And he was going to kill whoever was responsible, end of story.

When it became apparent that the sense of wrongness was not going to dissipate, he made what he was sure was a poor decision, all the while musing about how many of those likewise poor decisions he had made on her behalf. No matter. He'd done enough thinking with his brain in the past, and it hadn't quite worked out well for him. It couldn't make matters too much worse to do a little thinking with his heart once in a while.

And so, he'd made a shadow clone while Kisame wasn't looking and gave him the slip. He knew his partner was not going to be very happy with him when he found out. After all, Clay Country was notoriously windy during the wintertime. He was told that it experienced what was called a 'lazy wind': the kind of wind that doesn't bother going around you, and instead blasts right through you to continue on its way. He was sure Kisame was freezing right about now, and when the frightening looking Shinobi realized that Itachi was missing out on the lovely weather, he was not going to be pleased. And he would find out… Kisame was belligerent and impatient, but he was no idiot.

Despite that, he couldn't ignore the feeling that Hanabi needed him, and so he had to go. For what seemed the hundredth time, he was making a long journey back to Konoha for a tiny slip of a girl that barely stood taller than his waist.

_I love you, Koinu…_

It was worth it. As he made the arduous journey through the cold landscape in naught but a flimsy Akatsuki cloak, her words kept him warm from the inside out. No one had ever said that to him before and  _meant_  it. Still, the fibers of his being screamed in denial, telling him that loving her in any capacity was wrong wrong wrong, but he had long ago ceased to care about any of that. He needed her. She needed him. Whether it was wrong or not, the two of them loved each other, and right now she needed him to go to her.

So, go to her he did.

* * *

 

Awake. Asleep. Awake. Asleep. In and out, she drifted. When she wasn't asleep, she was crying. At six years old, she truly believed her life was over. As young as she was, life was the melody that was played by the important people in her life, and as such, life was pretty terrible right now. Koinu was absent, Hinata was sad, her father was unapproachable, and her mother…

Her mother was dead.

None of the Hyuuga family could have predicted how Hanako Hyuuga's death would have affected them. They had known it was coming for a long, long time. Despite that, all of them had dealt with the slow and agonizing ordeal in their own ways: Hinata had spent as much time with her mother as she could, as if trying to soak up all the last few precious memories as possible; Hanabi had avoided her mother for the most part, uncomfortable with her frailty and scared of knowing her well enough to miss her when she was gone. And Hiashi… no one knew what Hiashi thought or felt. If he felt anything at all for his late wife, it was a mystery to them all.

Hanabi was having a phenomenally difficult time coping. Though she had mostly avoided Hanako in her last couple of years, that didn't detract from how much she had loved her mother. It was mostly just that she was hoping to preserve a memory of her mother when she was lovely, strong, and full of life. She had avoided her mother during the dying so that she would not remember her that way. Now, however, she was experiencing a tremendous amount of guilt and regret for having done so.

When she was awake, she tried to remember everything about her mother that she could. Being so young, it was extraordinarily difficult. Her earliest memories were fuzzy; she really only remembered the feelings. She'd loved her mother, could remember that she was kind and warm and generous. She knew that her mother had loved her in return… but any detail was more or less lost.

The freshest memory she had of her mother was that day in the garden when she'd caught her crying and had realized that Hanako Hyuuga was also grieving for their lost Hinata. Since then, she'd spent a lot of time with her mother, basking in the shared suffering, knowing that someone else in the world also missed her sister. However, that hadn't given her a lot to remember her mother by, either.

And now, it was too late. There would never again be any new memories to be made, and for this she was sorry. So sorry… but there was no way to ever make up for her misguided intentions. Her mother was gone, and she had not been a very good daughter. The realization had robbed her of all of her innocence, and she'd aged considerably in the months since Hanako had passed away.

Even so, she was not done mourning the loss.

Today was a particularly bad day. It was Hanako Hyuuga's birthday. Despite the fact that Hanabi and her mother had never been very close, on this day every year since she could remember, Hanabi would spend the entire day with her mother and pretend she knew how to read stories. Really, she had memorized all the stories that her mother used to read to her right before bedtime, and she would grab a book (any book) and recite all of the words to her mother. She didn't know, at the time, that reading actually had something to do with the words on the page… she only knew that during reading time, someone would hold a book and tell a story as they flipped pages. Despite that, Hanako would listen patiently as Hanabi told the stories that Hanako herself would tell Hanabi. It was one of the few memories Hanabi had of her mother, and it was very dear to her.

She'd made herself a cup of tea and was curled in the chair in her room, bundled up tightly in the afghan her mother had knitted for her when she was a baby. It was knitted all in white with the black symbol for the Hyuuga trigrams crocheted into it. It was so old and well-used that the white was a dingy yellow color, and it wasn't large enough to cover her, so it wasn't keeping her warm, but she was wrapped in it nonetheless. The tea was keeping her warm where the blanket had failed. She sniffled and sobbed and sipped her tea, all the while staring out the window and stewing about how it shouldn't be a beautiful day when the most beautiful soul was absent.

Nothing was destined to go right for her.

She felt empty, and alone. Her whole body ached with the strain of crying. Her shoulders were sore from heaving with sobs, her throat was sore from her howling, her nose was stuffed and it made her head ache, and even her mouth was cracked and burned from the snot that poured out of her nose in rivers.

With daylight half burned away, she decided a little too late that she could not handle today on her own. She set the teacup on her windowsill, draped the afghan over her head and shoulders, and left the house dressed like a beggar.

She'd finally learned where Hinata lived. She was sharing an apartment with Kurenai Yuuhi in an apartment on the very furthest side of town, near the main gate of Konoha. It was a long trek, but it passed by in what seemed like a blink of an eye, so distracted was she by her brooding. She had her hand raised to knock on the door, but the door opened before she could lay knuckle to wood, and Kurenai was standing in the doorway, looking down at her.

What a sight she must have been! She was certain her eyes were red and puffy, and her face damp, swollen, and forlorn. Besides that, she was still in her black pajamas and had a pale yellow yarn afghan draped across her shoulders, and it was still frigid in the village. She must have looked homeless and lost! She didn't have to say anything; Kurenai had already heard the news and dealt with a good deal of the aftermath. Hanabi showing up at her door was hardly a surprise, but Hanabi showing up without proper weather attire was another thing entirely.

"Hanabi!" Kurenai exclaimed, clapping one palm over her mouth in a shocked gasp. "You'll catch your death out there!" She wrapped a pale, willowy arm around the little girl's shoulders and pulled her in, then gave her a little shove in the direction of the hallway. "Hinata's in the same boat, today. I'll leave you two alone."

Numb, Hanabi let her feet carry her in the direction of her sister. She didn't waste a second wondering which door was Hinata's. Somehow, she just knew. She opened and closed it behind her, heart and feet leaden as she entered the room. She stopped. Hinata was balled up on her bed in a tightly curled ball, knees drawn up to her chin and toes curled. She was sobbing uncontrollably.

Hanabi hesitated. She had come here for her own comfort, hoping Hinata as the older sister could provide some sort of support or guidance to help her through this. Instead, she'd found her elder sister in a state of even further distress. She sighed heavily. There was only one thing to do. She dragged the forgotten blanket up from the floor and covered them both with it. She wrapped her small yet strong arms around Hinata's shuddering body and squeezed.

Instinctively, Hinata's hands wrapped around Hanabi's arms. She gripped tightly, as if Hanabi were the only person left in the world to keep Hinata alive. "I m-m-miss her," Hinata sobbed.

Hanabi stroked her hair. "I know, Hinata. I miss her, too." Tears rolled down her eyes freely, but she couldn't afford to dissolve in a fit of weeping, too. Right now, Hinata needed her to be strong for both of them, and she'd be damned if she couldn't do that much for a short amount of time.

Once Hinata had finally sobbed herself to exhaustion, Hanabi made her exit. She had come here seeking comfort on a bad day, and had not found it. While she loved Hinata dearly, today she needed something more. She hugged and kissed Hinata one more time, then tucked her in and retreated back to the Hyuuga estate.

Ko would know what to do, she decided. And so, Hanabi knocked on Ko's door… but no one answered. Sighing with defeat, she turned back toward her own bedroom door. She was already exhausted from crying and from holding Hinata together while she cried, and the walk back to her door was slow and pitiful.

As she neared her door, she had one final idea. Instead of going into her door, she turned down the hallway and went just a little further. The door at the end of the hall belonged to her father. She knocked lightly, politely. At first, there was no answer. Feeling as if no one were there for her at all, she turned to leave. Just as she did, though, Hiashi's firm, strained voice bade her to enter.

"Father," she whispered as she entered his bedroom, eyes down. It was against all codes of proper conduct for her to enter the master bedroom. She knew that, but she was hoping that, just this once, he would say to hell with conduct and just give her a proper hug, tell her everything would be alright.

"Hanabi, why have you come to my bedroom?" he asked, voice devoid of all emotion.

She looked uncertainly away. Perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea, after all. "It's just… I… could you…?" She broke off, unsure of how to ask or what to say. Finally, helpless, she just spilled it all. "I don't know what to do about Mother!" she blurted, dropping her face to her hands.

She heard him sigh. A few seconds passed. "Your mother… is gone, Hanabi. You'll have to survive without her." It sounded harsh to her ears, but she didn't dare cry in front of her father anymore. She was so absorbed in her own pain that she thought she imagined it when he whispered, "As I must." She blinked. Surely he hadn't meant to say that out loud?

She waited a few more moments, hoping he'd ask for her to come closer, offer her a hug…  _something_. But Hiashi Hyuuga had never been a passionate or affectionate man. That had been his wife's department. Now, cursed with two daughters who relied on their feelings as much as they did, he had no idea what to do. He felt unable to comfort them. Worst of all, he was unwilling. Despite his own raging emotions within himself, he was convinced that the pain and suffering that they were all feeling was a part of life that they need only get over. The sooner they forget about Hanako, the better. Hugging it out wasn't the answer to that.

Rejected, Hanabi bowed to her father. "I understand, Father. Sorry to have disturbed you." She shut the door quietly and remained in front of it, shoulders shaking with the heavy sobs she was already racking up. Fearing he might hear her any second now and criticize her weakness, she bolted. She sprinted down the hallway the mere handful of steps that it took her to get to her own sanctuary, threw the door open, slammed it behind her, and froze dead in her tracks, eyes flying open wide despite the blurry film of tears that already clouded her vision.

There was no mistaking the man leaning casually against the pane of her window. His beautiful black and red cloak fluttered gently in the breeze that was coming in through the window she'd left closed. The silken black strands of his hair breezed softly across his face, impassive and cool as always. "K-k-koinu?" she asked tremulously, so full of hope and urgency that she felt weak all at once. Today had been too much for her already. If his presence in her room was just another trick, she knew she'd die of heartbreak today, and no one would even miss her.

He didn't even speak. He didn't need to. Even if he had something to say, he doubted that the words would leave his mouth. Her body language had confirmed his suspicions. Something was exceptionally wrong with Hanabi. Instead of words, he slipped off the windowsill and opened up both arms.

She didn't hesitate. Hanabi barreled into his open awaiting arms, buried her face as deep into his abdomen as she could, and burst into tears. He held her trembling shoulders as she cried and cried, his heart splintering. She would speak when she was ready. Until then, he would hold her and keep her loud sobs to a lower volume. She tangled her fingers in his shirt and squeezed, never wanting to let him go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I remember correctly, this scene was pretty hard to write for all the feels. I just re-read again in an edit, and there's not a high point in it anywhere, is there? I'm pretty happy with the way this one turned out. All I really edited in it were a couple of grammatical errors and misspellings.
> 
> I'm wondering if anyone out there can relate? I hope I haven't made you too sad.


	12. Sensei

Timeline=4 years 8 months post massacre

* * *

 

Finally, when she'd cried herself to a minimum, he spoke. "I will hear what is bothering you, Hanabi," he demanded softly, "but we will need to leave here, first." She peeked up at him with one eye, asking _. How do we do that?_ He smirked. "A little cat like you, I bet you've been working on your chakra control." She nodded and returned the smirk, confirming his guess. "I'm going to teach you something."

She leapt back as if burned, the lost look in her eyes replaced immediately with the hunger of a child in need of knowledge. "Whatever you will teach me, I will learn," she responded fervently. She gave him the space he needed.

He made the sign for the Shadow Clone jutsu and made an additional clone to show her how. It was a long shot to teach such an advanced technique to a six-year-old girl, but he knew she could do it. A Hyuuga was not an ordinary child, after all. He'd been a genin at six himself, but even an Uchiha was not a Hyuuga. Hanabi's family had extraordinarily delicate chakra control. She'd have this mastered in no time. "There," he said to her. "Now you make one. When you can do that, we can go. We need to leave your clone behind so that your father does not worry, alright?" It would not do to have Hiashi Hyuuga searching for them. That might be one fight he could lose. He would still be able to transform one of his own clones into an imitation of Hanabi if need be, but he preferred this way. Giving a ninja a goal worth going for was a great motivator.

Her feral smile was answer enough. "Okay!" she agreed. She made the sign for the shadow clone jutsu and shut her eyes. He waited. She spent several minutes apparently lost in thought. The moment dragged on for so long that Itachi was about to interrupt her to ask what she was doing, but he cautioned himself to be patient. Sweat beaded on her brow from concentration. He'd never witnessed any ninja put so much effort into doing a jutsu right the first time. Most would just hack out an attempt, then try again if it failed. It was clear that Hanabi had a different approach; she was going to conserve her chakra by focusing on the first attempt. He admired that.

It made him smile to consider all the times he'd had the thought that she'd be a great Shinobi some day. If she continued with this practice of doing a jutsu right the first time, she was going to be formidable indeed.

"Shadow clone jutsu!" she hissed finally, her eyes popping open. To her right, an identical replica of herself flickered to life. It wasn't a perfect copy, but it was close enough. She stared at it, her hands dropping to her sides. She smiled with satisfaction, then turned to him for his approval.

He managed—barely—to contain his emotions, but damn if he wasn't impressed. He'd never ever seen a person nail a jutsu on attempt number one. "That will suffice," he murmured with approval.

She grinned and leapt at him. He only just had enough time to catch her in his arms before she knocked them both over. Cradling the little girl in his arms, he left through the window. It was daytime still, so he'd need to be careful, but Itachi had always been careful.

He took them out past the wall where they'd met the first time. Hanabi knew the area much better by now; she came out here all the time by herself. It was her private training ground and sanctuary. She smiled against Itachi's chest and waited for them to arrive. It was warm when she was up against him like this. The cold didn't even matter anymore.

He set her down, walked a few steps away, and sat with his back to a tree. He rested one forearm on a steepled knee and regarded her with both eyes red. She wondered when he had started doing that. Before, he could change them back and forth from red to black. Now, he kept them red the whole time. "Tell me everything," he commanded.

When she had been younger, she had hesitated. Now, she knew better. Koinu was the only one who would listen to everything she had to say, and now she had a need for it to be said. She walked over to him and sat at his side, then cuddled in next to him. He opened his cloak and draped it and his other arm over her shoulders holding her close for warmth. She sighed. "My mother died," she said simply.

His heart went out to her. "My mother is also dead," he offered up. There was, of course, far more to that tale than he was willing to share at this point, but he hoped that sharing a little bit of it would help Hanabi with her pain.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"…Me, too." But sorry would never bring her back.

"We have a lot in common, don't we?" Hanabi asked.

He thought about it. A missing sibling, a dead parent, and strange eyes. "I suppose we do," he agreed.

"Will you take me with you, Koinu?" she asked suddenly, not daring to meet his eyes.

He hesitated at the question. There was not a good way to answer this, but the answer would have to be absolutely not. If he denied her this, though, she was bound to take it personally. He'd been hiding from her for long enough. If he rejected her again, their bond would suffer. That in itself was tempting, but he could no longer lie to himself and believe that he could stay away from this bright, innocent little girl who reminded him so much of himself. Yes, they had far more in common than they realized. "Hanabi…" he began.

"The answer is no, isn't it?" She interrupted bitterly. "I knew it." She wrapped her arms around herself, an involuntary gesture to protect herself. From him.

His heart sank with sorrow. As he'd guessed, she wasn't going to recover from this rejection. "The answer is no," he confirmed. She tightened her grip on his cloak. "Hanabi, it's time for me to tell you who I am."

Her breathing hitched for a second, thrown by the change in subject. "…Okay," she said at last.

He took a deep breath. He still didn't want to tell her, but in order for her to understand, it needed to be now. Whatever happened today, he hoped that she'd forgive him for lying. Perhaps, despite everything, she'd be able to look past his crime and still see him for who he had always been. "My name is Itachi Uchiha." He paused to see if that had had any effect on her.

Hanabi mulled over the sound of the name in her ears. It sounded familiar, somehow, but she couldn't quite place it. She tested it on her lips. "Itachi…Uchiha. Hm."

He took another deep breath, uncomfortable that he had to explain further. The details were not pleasant. "I left the Village Hidden in the Leaves over four years ago, the night that the Uchiha clan was…killed."

Hanabi's eyes widened, though Itachi couldn't see it. He wasn't looking at her. He didn't want to see whatever was in her eyes as she heard the news. "Ohh," she murmured as it dawned on her. " _That_  Itachi Uchiha!"

"Yes," he answered. He waited for any more from her. There was nothing. "The cloak you are so fond of is standard issue for a member of the Akatsuki, an organization of other S-Class criminals with the ultimate purpose of destroying the world as we know it."

"Okay."

"And the eyes you've commented on several times are the Sharingan of my clan," he continued. "My brother is not missing, but I cannot see him. I cannot be seen in the Leaf Village, or he will attempt to kill me." Still, she was quiet. "Do you understand what I am saying, Hanabi?"

She breathed in, breathed out. Breathed in. Breathed out. "You're a murderer. You killed your own family."

Hearing her say it hurt. It sent a kunai right through his soul. Nonetheless, he expected that. "Yes," he rasped, feeling unwanted, soul-rending emotions ripping through his veins and tearing him into thousands of icy pieces.

"You must have had a really good reason, Koinu. You seem pretty harmless to me." She snuggled even closer.

…And the thousands of icy pieces melted together and reformed into one stronger Itachi. She hadn't called him by his name, he noted, even though he had given it to her. He was still Koinu, to her. Furthermore, she had concluded that he had an honest reason to decimate his entire family. Her faith in him was endearing, but stupid. If he had ever learned that his little sister had unyielding faith in a murderer of his caliber, he would kill that bastard outright.

And then it hit him…  _his little sister._ That's what she'd become, to him. He wondered if she viewed him the same way.

"Koinu? Did you have a reason?" she asked him through a yawn. It was getting late, he noted. The sun was going down.

He could lie to her again. If he told her no, she'd stay away from him and she'd be safe. "Yes, I had a reason," he answered softly.

She smiled to herself. "I knew it," she replied victoriously.

He smiled to himself, too. This little sister of his was going to be a real handful when she grew up. She'd already made shadow clones at six years old. He wondered if she'd mastered her Byakugan yet. If she hadn't, it was only a matter of time. That gave him an idea. He nudged the snuggled little bundle of Hyuuga at his arm. She blinked at him sleepily, already beginning to doze off. He was sure she was exhausted from all of the grieving. "I'm going to let you come with me," he told her.

She perked right up. "Really?" All the previous sadness, loneliness, and tiredness drained away in an instant by a single promise. Her mind was bent on one thing: adventure.

He smiled at her. "Yes, but not for too long. You have a responsibility to protect your family, and from where I stand, I can personally guarantee that the time for that will be soon. However, I think a short jaunt into the wilderness can't hurt." She beamed, eyes glittering with anticipation. She was utterly adorable when she was excited. "Besides," he continued, "I'd love to teach you some more techniques for you to perfect on your own."

"Really? You mean it, Koinu?" She hugged him tight. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" She shook him as she hugged him.

He endured it for a moment, reveling in the affection, but one thing needed to be cleared up. His tone changed. "Hanabi, there's only one thing I want to ask of you."

"Anything, Koinu!" she responded without hesitation.

He frowned. "Now that you know who I am, please call me Itachi. You're the only person left in the world who can say that name like it means something good."

Her smile faded for an instant as she considered the weight of his words. In that moment, she understood all the secrecy and why he'd been so hesitant to share any details about himself. She understood why she was important to him. Itachi, the Itachi that she knew, was a good person, but the world thought he was bad. When they'd met, she hadn't known what he'd done and had instantly liked him. Now, years later, she was still the only person who knew him as he was meant to be, unblemished by the crimes he had committed. Through her, Itachi could live the life he had wanted. She hugged him again. "Sure, Itachi."

Warmth spread through him as it always did in her presence. Once again, she was reviving him. Now, it was different, though. Most of the secrets between them were dispelled. He didn't have to hide or dodge. He didn't feel the ominous dread of lying to her over and over again. He had accepted that he wasn't going to rid himself of her, nor she of him. They were a pair, consciously committed to knowing each other no matter the cost. He loved her, simple as that.

Thank you, Hanabi," he said gratefully. "Now first," he told her, withdrawing one of his kunai, "I'm going to teach you how to throw a kunai." Her eyes followed his hands, drinking in every moment eagerly. "You need to place the handle in your hand, cushioned between your four fingers and the top of your palm. Do not grip it solely in the palm, or you won't be able to let go of it properly when you throw it," he explained. "And keep your thumb out of the way, too."

She nodded eagerly. He handed her one of his knives and helped her position her fingers correctly. "Like that," he told her when she'd gotten it right.

"I've held one before," she explained, "but really only for stabbing. I've never thrown one before." She hefted the weight of his knife. This one was heavier than hers, which had been made for young ninja in training.

He fixed her with a flat stare. "Who were you stabbing?" he asked warily, feeling sorry for the poor bastard already.

"My father," she shrugged, tossing the knife back and forth between both of her hands and trying to get the hang of gripping the knife correctly quickly.

He smiled. "I see." He understood, too. "Now, hold it steady. There are a few ways to throw it. If you turn your body sideways, you can eject it with a good solid flick of the elbow and wrist, like this." He turned and demonstrated, and the knife embedded into the side of a tree. He yanked on the attached wire and retrieved it, catching the haft of the blade in his hand again.

"Wow!" Hanabi exclaimed with glee. "You're good!"

Her words gave him pride, but he had been throwing kunai for most of his life, and to him it was a simple task. "Thank you. Then there's a forward thrust. This one is much more difficult. It is harder to bend the arm that way and get a straight throw, but it can be done and is a useful skill to have." He palmed a kunai in each hand and showed her. Both kunai hit the trunk at the same time with a solid  _thunk_. She clapped her hands enthusiastically. Again, he pulled the knives out of the tree with wire. He put the other one away so he was left with one again. "The last one is easiest for beginners, but it's less accurate with the kunai because it adds a spin to the knife." He showed her how he gripped the handle, then took aim. With a simple over-the-shoulder bend of the elbow, the blade arced through the air and hit the trunk lower than his first two throws and at an angle. "See?"

She nodded with impatience, already holding the kunai the proper way. She was concentrating so hard that her tongue was sticking out. He didn't laugh, though. He'd seen her look of concentration already and knew the potential behind it. She took aim, and threw. The kunai hit the tree handle first and clattered to the ground. "Aww!" she groaned, disappointed.

"It takes practice," he assured her. "You can practice as we walk." He took a step in the direction away from the Lead Village.

Hanabi picked up the fallen kunai and observed it. She hefted it in her hand, feeling the weight, already trying to devise strategies involving the ninja wire she had seen Itachi use. She was certain that the wire was used for traps. She hoped she was smart enough to devise her own traps. Currently, the only thing she could really think of was a trip wire, but that couldn't have been the full range of use for ninja wire. She gripped the knife in her hand and scrambled to catch up with Itachi. "Where are we going?" she asked, falling into step beside him.

He thought about it. Where, indeed? He couldn't go off too far. Hanabi couldn't live as a shadow clone forever… or could she? "To the Valley of the End," he responded, surprising himself. Why there?

"That sounds cool," she responded, though she had no idea where that was. She took aim and threw the kunai at a tree several paces ahead of them. The blade struck the tree sideways and clattered to the ground again. She ran ahead to retrieve it again and fell back into step. All the complaining and disappointment was gone from her. Now, she was just practicing.

"Do you know the story of the Valley of the End?" he asked her curiously, trying to make conversation. Most people didn't know Itachi as much of a talker. It was true, he didn't really bother himself with casual conversation. However, much like with Sasuke, he wanted Hanabi to be as prepared as possible for the harsh reality of the world she had been born into. Hanabi shook her head, took aim, and threw the kunai. It nearly struck the trunk this time, leaving a glancing gash in the bark, before once again clattering harmlessly to the ground. "Long ago, after the Leaf Village was founded, the two founders had a great battle there to decide who should control the village. They were Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha."

"Uchiha…" Hanabi mused to herself. One of the founders of the village had had the same name as Itachi. She wasn't sure why, but she found that to be important somehow.

Itachi continued. "Hashirama and Madara were as equally matched as two Shinobi could be, and their powers were legendary. They destroyed the area in their fight, and it became known as the Valley of the End. There are two statues there now to commemorate the battle."

Hanabi thought about it. What must it have looked like to see two strong Shinobi fight for something so important? Was there anything so important for her to fight for? She thought about Hinata. She knew she would fight anyone to the death if she needed to protect her sister. What about Itachi? She glanced up at her companion, the infamous Itachi Uchiha. The glowering, far off look in his eyes made her relax and smile. She didn't think he would ever need her to protect him. If he ever did, though, she would be there for him. She would need to be really strong, though, if he needed her to protect him. She took aim with the kunai and threw it at another tree. There was a solid  _thunk_  as the blade penetrated the bark and held fast. It wasn't a perfect shot. It wasn't straight, and it wasn't deep… but she'd done it. "Aha!" she shouted victoriously. "Look, Itachi!" she cried, pointing.

Hearing her say his name like that cracked the icy shell around his heart. She was doing it again, wiggling her way into the deepest, darkest parts of himself and warming him up from the inside out. Such a lovely little gem of a ninja she was, dancing on the balls of her toes, pointing and grinning like the little girl she was as she crowed her triumph at a technique that  _he_  had taught her. He had always known she'd be a powerful Shinobi, but in that moment he realized something profound: how great would she be if he taught her everything he knew?

A hot spike of inspiration burst in his chest. Exiled, dishonored, and outlawed he might be, but the legacy of Itachi Uchiha would live on in more ways than one. He would give his eyes to Sasuke and donate his skills to this little girl. The idea held fleetingly in his mind to give his eyes to her instead, but he discarded the thought immediately. He owed Sasuke much more than Hanabi, and besides, without Itachi's eyes, Sasuke would go blind eventually, and surely die.

He fixed his eyes on his kunai protruding from the bark of the tree and smiled. "Excellent work, Hanabi," he praised. "Keep it up and you'll be a Shinobi in no time at all!" The Valley of the End was no place for actual training, come to think of it, so he shifted their destination to a much more suitable training area, and told her as much.

She nodded, eyes shining, and went back to her practicing as Itachi retreated into his thoughts. Safe in the presence of Hanabi, he could think about Sasuke without going cold with shame. Sasuke would be twelve now. He would certainly be improving with his shuriken practice and might even be awakening his own Sharingan by now. He ought to be graduating soon, if not already. He'd be getting his own genin team. Itachi remembered his genin team, but they hadn't been on a team very long, and he wasn't the best at making friends, anyhow. Most other ninja were jealous of him, and he had quickly surpassed them and graduated. He'd been more than happy to leave the other genin behind when he'd made chunin. Their feeble minds had made him uneasy to be on their team at the time, and he was satisfied to be among more mature Shinobi.

Did Sasuke have many friends? If he didn't, it was probably Itachi's fault, a notion that saddened him. Sasuke had likely turned into a loner like himself. Hopefully, the extra solitude gave him the time and focus he needed to obtain true strength. He hoped that someday Sasuke would be one of the strongest Shinobi alive, and fervently believed that he'd be able to defeat Itachi himself. Despite that, he knew that his actions had steeped Sasuke in a life of violence, distrust, and loneliness. There was nothing he could do about that, now. Once Sasuke killed him and took his eyes, he was on his own. Itachi could do nothing further to protect him.

He glanced sidelong at the little girl trotting easily at his side. She took aim and threw the kunai he'd lent her. It clattered into the trunk of a tree further ahead and fell harmlessly to the ground. She sighed, ran ahead, and retrieved the knife before settling in at his side again, taking aim, and throwing. She was only hitting correctly one time in fifteen, but she didn't balk or give up.

At six years old, Hanabi Hyuuga showed tremendous promise.

That gave rise to a thought that set his jaw in a firm line. He remembered well the days when nearly every child born to Konoha had been a ninja by ten years old. They were harsh times. While, surely, each and every young ninja had obtained the skills necessary to hold his or her own on a battlefield, not a one of them had been prepared for the psychological dysfunction that accompanied the very real death-causing situations. None of their training had prepared them for the violence, the blood, the stench of death, and losing their friends, families, and lovers in open warfare. It was hard to see someone you loved turned into nothing more than a rancid bag of meat that made you vomit. There was more to being a Shinobi than chucking kunai at trees.

He vowed then and there that Hanabi would be ready for it.

The good news was, she was already well on her way to being prepared for it. She had already been robbed of her sister, her mother had died, and her father, though worthy of respect, had already shown her that love could often be cold and unfeeling. She would learn to rely on herself and control her emotions, and she would learn from the best person in the world to teach that to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come to think of it, Hanabi DOES have a lot in common with Itachi… I wonder how things really would have gone for her in the anime? You know… if she ACTUALLY had any screen time.


	13. Innovation

Timeline=4 years 8 months post massacre

* * *

 

Ultimately, he decided to head for one of the abandoned practice grounds. Much like the Forest of Death, Training Area Seventeen was dense with thick underbrush and trees. Unlike the Forest of Death, even the larger predators that plagued the area had abandoned it, too. It made a safe, hidden place for them to spend time together while still maintaining closeness to the Leaf Village. It was also chained and locked, and no one was likely to enter it.

By the time they reached Seventeen, the sun was beginning to set and Hanabi was working her shoulder to ease the strain. "It hurts," she complained halfheartedly.

"Yes," he admitted. "Kunai are not very heavy, so it puts a lot of strain on the muscles to throw them properly. Practice will strengthen your muscles, and it won't hurt so badly."

She frowned and tried to stretch the muscle, but grimaced from the pain. "Where are we?" she asked, looking at the chained and locked fence.

He smiled at her. "This is Training Area Seventeen. We'll be safe here. It will be like a camping trip."

She smirked in response. "You mean, like a real ninja mission? We'll have to fight to survive?"

It was hard not to share her enthusiasm. Survival missions were old news for him, but this was an entirely new experience for the budding young ninja. "Well, I doubt there is anything large enough to fight, but it will give us a place to work on some basic skills. I think I have enough rations for us both to spend at least a week here." He neglected to mention that he would be very hungry at the end of the week, and she would be well fed. It mattered less to him.

Her eyes twinkled with happiness. "This is wonderful!" she exclaimed. She raised the kunai for one more practice throw, but he grasped her wrist.

"Hanabi," he cautioned gently, "when your muscles are sore, it is important to give them rest for repair. If you push yourself past your limits, you can damage your body and it may never heal."

She accepted the admonishment with a sober nod. She never wanted to harm herself. She knew that her body was her greatest weapon, and she intended for it to be well-honed and perfect.

He turned his attention back to the gate. Though it was chained and locked, it served more as a warning that the area was no longer maintained than an actual barrier to the tangled mess. He pulled the gate, straining the chains until there was enough room for Hanabi to squeeze through, then slid easily through the opening himself to join her. "And now, our adventure begins," he told her with an excited grin.

As it was already getting dark, Itachi led her just far enough in for them to be able to set a fire without it being seen by a passing Leaf Patrol. They didn't need to travel that far. With some nominal searching, he was able to find a tiny clearing within a mass of tangled, long-dead brambles and immediately started a fire. The snow had long since melted, but it was still chilly. The shelter provided by the bramble walls would cut the wind significantly, and the fire would warm their little bubble and keep them warm.

There was a large stump at one edge of their camp. It seemed to be that of a willow tree. Itachi idly guessed that the tree had fallen and the brambles had immediately invaded the new clearing. Brambles were sun-lovers, and the sun was rare in the thick trees. Before long, other branches high above would have invaded the new space, and the brambles had died, giving them a cozy, comfortable, and safe place to make camp. That, and the stump made a good backrest. Hanabi cozied right up into his cloak and sighed for the warmth. They sat like that for a long while, neither speaking.

Itachi wondered what she was thinking in between his own thoughts. For the first time, he had ceased worrying about how wrong his relationship with the little girl really was. She knew what he had done and she loved him, and she had become a priority in his life as a result. He would teach her everything he could to keep her safe once he was gone, and she would give him all the reasons he needed to carry him to the moment of his death. Perhaps both of them would be better for their time together. The other people in his world had followed their own agendas. They schemed, killed, and lied. And Hanabi loved, laughed, and protected. In her, he saw much of himself. Though she was the younger sibling, she had prioritized protecting her sister, and nothing else mattered. In the pursuit of technical skill, she had isolated herself as he had and forced herself to become strong. Unlike him, though, she desperately needed someone to notice and love her.

Hanabi didn't trouble herself with worrying about what Itachi was thinking. She was basking in the warmth and understanding that she had found. Itachi wasn't as severe as her father, nor as soft as Hinata, and he certainly was not frail like her mother. No, he was strong, and kind, and he would teach her how to become a powerful ninja to protect her sister, for which she would be forever grateful. How could anyone be so blind that they could believe he would murder his family without cause? She had no idea what his reasons were, but if she had to guess, she would guess that he had done it to protect someone more important than them.

A spark lit. His brother? She stopped breathing for a moment, knowing she was right. It was the only explanation that made sense. He had always seemed very interested in her own bond with Hinata, but he seemed troubled at mention of his own brother.

He patted her shoulder, having felt her breathing quit. "You okay?" he asked with concern. "You froze up."

"Just thinking," she responded. "I'm fine."

He relaxed and sighed, and she returned to her thoughts. How lucky his little brother was to have such a wonderful brother. She hoped fervently that some day they could be together again, and perhaps she could meet him. Then, she remembered what he had said about his brother probably wanting to kill him.  _Oh_ , she thought. Perhaps the little brother would not forgive the deaths of the rest of his family. That must be it.  _Can I help?_ She wondered. She racked her brain trying to think of how she could do that, but abandoned the idea. Itachi might not appreciate it if she meddled, and she wasn't sure it would do any good anyway. After all, his little brother had no idea who she was. How sad they both must be!

Well, it did no good to be alone all the time. It gave her an idea. "Itachi?" she whispered.

"Yes, Hanabi?" he answered, calm and completely relaxed for once.

"Will you be my brother?" She listened to his heart thud in his ribs, and wondered at the reason it seemed to thrum louder.

His throat constricted.  _Brother_. It was a word that hurt to hear. He had been a brother, and Sasuke had always been his one joy in life. In the end, he'd been a terrible brother, and Sasuke would hate him forever. Sasuke, the brother he'd never know again. Sasuke, the brother who would kill his own brother. No, 'brother' was a painful word. He didn't want to be this little girl's brother. He didn't want to be anyone's brother anymore, unless he could be Sasuke's Big Brother again and not muck it all up this time.

He didn't even realize time had passed until he blinked and saw her face in front of his, eyes scrunched with concern. "Itachi, why are you crying?" she trilled with worry.

He reached out and hugged her tight, he stopped crying, but the tears came anyway. "My brother," he whispered into her hair with honesty.

"Oh," she muffled into his chest. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Her voice was strained, and he realized he was about to make her cry, too.

He never wanted to make Hanabi cry. "I'm done crying. I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please." He grasped her small face in his hands and thumbed the welling tears away. "No crying."

She smiled shakily. "No crying," she agreed. "You either!"

He barked a laugh. "Okay, me either."

"Promise?" she insisted, her eyes hardening with intensity. He hesitated, knowing he couldn't make that promise. "Promise me, Itachi. It's not good to be upset all the time."

He relented. "Alright, I promise." Amused, he realized he intended to try to keep that promise, too. He would do anything to try to make her happy.

Her features relaxed. "You miss your brother, don't you?" He didn't answer in any way, determined to keep his promise not to be upset. "I know how you feel," she continued, and he knew she was right. "I miss my sister all the time. I know it's not really the same, but it is, too."

Wisdom from a six year old, he mused to himself. This was what his life had come to. He supposed it helped that she was a very wise six year-old. "It is," he agreed.

"That's why I want you to be my brother," she went on. "You can't see your brother, you said, but you can see me. And I can't see my sister very often, either. And, when I do, she seems more like a younger sister than an older sister. I miss the days when she was stronger than me. I love my younger sister, but I miss my older sister sometimes, too. I need an older sibling, and you need a younger one." She laughed, a sound he hadn't heard in too long. It helped. "Here we are!" she exclaimed, raising her arms.

His smile felt more real this time. "Here we are," he found himself agreeing. "I don't like you being right more than me," he joked. She stretched her smile further, to the point of being too wide and comical. He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "I'll be your brother, little one," he told her fondly.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Itachi! I'll be a good little sister, I promise! No one can love you as much as I do!"

He had been worried that accepting any responsibility for Hanabi would make him feel like he was constantly failing, or that any day now would bring doom to her and it would be his fault. He had expected to be filled with panic. He'd never dreamed of having a sister before, and was certain it would be way different than having a little brother. He was sure he would hate it, in fact. He was elated to discover that it felt…good. Something broken inside of him had been fixed, and he didn't think it would ever break again.

Sasuke was lost to him. He would do everything in his power to ensure that his brother would be safe, and he missed him terribly. Sasuke would always be his foolish little brother, and he'd always feel the guilt surrounding the death of their parents, but that didn't mean he needed to spend the rest of his life in a constant state of bereavement. He squeezed his cheek against the ear of the tiny, dark haired girl in his arms and smiled. He had a little sister. No one would ever have predicted that, least of all him. "I love you, too, Hanabi."

The next day found them training. Itachi had made a point of avoiding a lot of things that she would learn in the academy and focused mainly on stealth and combat. Both were skills that she would learn in the academy, but these kinds of skills required discipline and practice, and no amount of study compared to actual training. He taught her how to use her chakra to mask the sounds she made as she moved. He taught her how to camouflage herself and how to choose a camping spot. He taught her how to set the traps needed to protect her position. He made her practice knots for several hours, until he was satisfied that her wires were both invisible and strong. When they finally stopped for lunch, she was exhausted, but hiding it well. He knew she was hiding her tiredness so that he would not make her stop working at it, but he appreciated how well she controlled her emotions from a Shinobi standpoint.

He knew she needed more rest, but assessed her condition and decided that she was not in danger of hurting herself, so he put her to work practicing her throwing again. She might not want a break, but he wouldn't have minded one. He climbed to the top of a thickly branched tree and chose to keep a lookout. Probably no one would come to investigate Area Seventeen, but it was something for him to do that felt useful. He listened to the loud clangs of a kunai hitting trees wrong and tried not to smile. Kunai practice was going to be very slow for the girl, and he was beginning to worry about her progress. Most people had trouble throwing ninja tools at first, but Hanabi was not most people. She was singularly talented in all other areas, and they didn't have a lot of time together to practice.

It was about an hour later when he heard an immensely satisfying thunk where he just now realized had been a lingering silence. He dropped from his perch and investigated where his knife had embedded itself deep in the bark of a tree. He frowned and placed a hand on the tree, confirming his suspicions. Too deep. She didn't have the strength to have thrown it that hard, so it had to have been something else. He shifted his gaze disapprovingly at the little kunoichi, asking the question with his eyes:  _how did you do that?_

She answered him with a smug smile and said nothing.

That wouldn't do. "Hanabi, explain this. It's not funny."

She pouted. "I thought you'd be proud of me," she complained.

He sighed and wrenched the knife from the tree. "I am, Hanabi, but I know you didn't throw that. Show me how you did it, and then we'll talk." He lobbed the knife back to her, and took a few steps back from the tree.

"First," she said with an arrogant smirk, "can you please give me something aim at?"

His curiosity was piqued, and he obliged. With his own knife, he scratched a large X on the tree. "Aim for the center of the X," he instructed, and returned to his viewing area.

She nodded, and stood straight, which confused him. Her knife rested in her hand, gripped wrongly. Nonetheless, he'd seen her concentrate before and knew not to interrupt. It was when her hair started to sway and the thin tendrils of chakra started to become visible that he understood what she was up to. The veins of her eyes swelled slowly, and when she was ready, she opened her eyes. Her expression was focused. All that existed was the X on the tree and the storm of chakra within her. She lowered the kunai, then heaved it high into the air. Once it reached its peak, gravity caused it to fall haphazardly, spinning end over end as it fell toward the earth. Finally, when it seemed it was about to drop to the ground at her feet, Hanabi released one quick slash of the gentle fist, much like the form used to throw a kunai. The spike of chakra that shot from her hand forced the flight of the kunai in its direction, and the knife shot like an arrow , burying itself in the center of the X he had drawn. She observed her shot with pride, released a heavy breath, and looked to him for comment.

There was nothing to say. Itachi had never heard of a Hyuuga using chakra to throw knives. The conclusion she had drawn from her failed attempts at throwing it the right way and her premature mastery of her own chakra was impressive. Itachi was beginning to understand why Hiashi had chosen his younger daughter instead of the elder. Itachi was impressed. However, he was the instructor, and a major infraction had occurred. He frowned in her direction. "Hanabi, you were supposed to learn how to  _throw_  it."

Her smile disappeared and she stamped her foot. "I did throw it! I threw it better than you did!"

He didn't disagree with her, but that wasn't the point. "Why do you think I wanted you to learn how to throw it?"

Her mouth fell open to speak, but nothing came out. She bit her lip and looked away. When she spoke, it was quiet. "I thought you wanted me to be able to hit a target. Am I wrong?"

He shut his eyes and sighed. "No, you're not wrong, but there's more to it than that. Why does a ninja learn taijutsu?" he asked instead.

Hanabi had clearly learned that lesson. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "A ninja learns taijutsu to save time and chakra, or when their chakra is too exhau—Oh," she realized. She frowned, understanding her mistake. "I get it now. This is for when I don't have the time to focus or when I run out of chakra, isn't it?"

He smiled, pleased that she had caught on so quickly. "Yes, that's exactly right. Your chakra skills are advanced, but the difference between life and death often boils down to your physical abilities once your chakra is depleted." His tone grew more serious. "I hope you're never brought to that point, Hanabi, but it's possible."

Her face reset its mask of concentration. "I understand, Itachi. Thanks." She retrieved the kunai from the tree with some difficulty, then resumed her position for throwing with a dejected sigh. She clearly was not enjoying kunai practice. He hoped she didn't hate him too much when they got to shuriken practice.

He contained his smile and made for his perch again, but he made sure she could hear it when he said, "Although with ninjutsu like that, I doubt anyone's going to have a chance to lay a hand on you," before he leapt up the tree.

Hanabi beamed under the praise, but didn't allow much time for preening. She would make him proud. She took aim, and threw. Another miss. She sighed.

* * *

 

"Talk to me about chakra," he prompted her at the fire that night. He had never personally known a Hyuuga; their rivalry with the Uchiha had kept him interested in their particular talents, but he'd never had a chance to really understand their skills.

She blinked and poked at the fire. She wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that, but chakra study was one of her favorite things to do. It made her feel strong and special, and she enjoyed talking about it. "Well, I started trying to figure out chakra soon after Hinata… left." She gazed into the flames, trying not to let her anger with her father bubble up. "Usually, Hyuugas learn their bloodline limits from a relative. Usually, I would have learned from my father. But, I was not happy with my father, and I was too young to be taught, so everyone said. But then I started training with Neji. He makes Father angry, too, because Neji learned how to do everything by himself when he wasn't much older than me."

Her eyes adopted a far-off look, and she frowned. "You told me that Hinata needed me to be strong, to protect her. When that jounin came to take her away, she hinted that Hinata could be killed and my father…" she swallowed, struggling to rein in her emotions. After a few deep breaths, she continued. "My father didn't even seem to care that she might die," she managed bitterly. "I knew that if I couldn't help protect her, no one would. Mother was never strong, not like that. Hinata was just like Mother. All Hinata had was…  _me_." The log she was poking tipped over, sending a fountain of sparks into the dark sky. There was a long pause. "I needed to be better," she whispered. Her voice was quieter, but her words were more intense. "I needed to be something no one else was. I needed to feel like anyone at all could threaten my sister, and all of them would fail.

"So I practiced. The basis of all Hyuuga technique is mastery of chakra, so I started with that. I peered deep within my psyche and I felt the chakra. I pushed against every chakra point, struggling to understand how they worked without any teaching. I practiced expelling chakra from every chakra point that I could. I practiced using a little, or a lot. I stopped my own chakra points sometimes just to see how it shocked my system, and I worked through it. I practiced until I was too tired to continue, and I kept right on going just to see if I could, and how I could. I spent hours upon hours just letting chakra build up until it was racing through me like an angry river. I've spent more time understanding my chakra than anything else," she finished on a hush, "and with it, I can do anything."

Her pale eyes seized his, and his breath caught. "I don't know what I can do with it, yet, Itachi," she told him. "I just know that when I need it, I can use it. Do you know what I mean?" He was too enthralled by her to speak, so she went on. "It's like… being born with a sword in your hand," she said dreamily. "You don't know what it is. You're not sure what it's for. But, you spend all of your time with it. You know exactly how long it is, how wide it is, and how heavy it feels in your hand. You know it is sharp, and exactly which things it will cut, and before you ever have a reason to use it, you know it has the power to end life." Her eyebrows drew together, considering. "Yes, exactly like that. That is how I understand chakra."

Even after her analogy, he was at a loss for words. Instead, he attempted humor. "I rather wish you'd been born with a kunai in your hands," he said wryly.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she laughed. Then, quick as a viper, she snatched a hot coal from their fire and chucked it in his direction. Her aim was so poor that it went wide to his left. Just to prove a point, he threw two shuriken in quick succession. They flew wide and fast, and met at exactly the same time to saw the coal in half midair. The two pieces fell harmlessly to the ground, still red hot. The orange glow faded moments later, leaving the lifeless coals to give credence to his lesson. The shuriken disappeared into the brush. He'd find them tomorrow.

Hanabi didn't say anything for a moment. Then, she laughed again. "Alright, I'll practice more tomorrow," she grumbled. "I get the point."


	14. Hard Lessons

Timeline=4 years 8 months post massacre

* * *

 

Hanabi stood and retrieved the kunai she had been using to practice. She gripped it, just like Itachi had showed her, and shut her eyes. She felt the cold, unwrapped handle in her fingers. She tested its weight. She held her arm out straight, feeling the way her muscles reacted to the unfamiliar weight in her hand. She bent the elbow, testing those quivering muscles, too. Her face contorted with pain. Her arm felt dead. Gritting her teeth, she resolved to ignore it and keep working anyway. She was just about to step away from camp to start practice when Itachi spoke.

"No kunai practice today," he ordered.

She sighed, both with relief and annoyance. "Why not?"

"Remember what I told you about your muscles?" he chastised. "I saw your face just now. You're not using those arms today." Her sigh of relief was so dramatic that he laughed. "How's your rotation?" he asked instead.

She smirked. Her rotation was another aspect of her chakra mastery that she was proud of. "Come on, and I'll show you," she said.

Itachi ignored the arrogance and followed her to the cleared space she had been using for practice. There was still no sunlight, but the brush was cleared and the tree trunks were further apart. Hanabi stood in the general center, focusing. He leaned against a tree and observed, amused. He was full of tricks today, and he intended to test her composure. He had already suspected that she had practiced her rotation; it was one of the parts of the Hyuuga trifecta: Byakugan, Gentle Fist, Rotation. She had to at least have attempted it.

After several minutes of 'tasting' her chakra as she always did, feeling its ebb and flow within her, her feet shifted. She took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and spun. Wisps of chakra exploded from her body, cocooning her in a bubble of spinning blue. For a six year old, even a Hyuuga, it was quite a spectacle, but it was nowhere near perfect. It would do, though, for what he had in mind.

When her rotation slowed and finally she stopped, she met his eyes and grinned happily, knowing she had done well. "I was good, right?" she asked, seeking praise.

"Hold that thought," he cautioned her, his smile a little too broad to be real, right before he pulled the trip wire.

"Huh?" she asked, just before the world around her erupted into chaos. A dozen kunai burst from the canopy in a constricting circle aimed straight at her. Her first reaction was to hunker down on the balls of her feet, ready to flee. Her first reaction was wrong.

Her second reaction was correct. Without more than that first moment's hesitation, she spun haphazardly into a rotation. It was less perfect than the first, and one of the kunai broke through. It smacked her in the collarbone and broke her concentration. The rest of the kunai fell harmlessly to the ground around her, but the rotation was stopped short as her focus slipped, and she slumped to the ground. No sooner had she hit than Itachi's ground traps sprang up and a storm of shuriken sprayed at her.

Despite her lackluster performance, her instinct to survive was strong. She rolled into a crouch and sprang away, finding her feet. From there, it was a simple matter of deflecting them with well-aimed Gentle Fist. She nailed that part of the exercise, and every last shuriken was swatted down.

When it was all over, she rounded on Itachi, her face a barely controlled maelstrom of fury, and shrieked at him. "Itachi, what—" A heavy smack sounded as his last trap hit home. A rock just heavy enough to knock her out without causing any damage fell on her head, and she dropped to the earth like a sack of bricks.

He frowned with displeasure. This was going to be a hard lesson for her, and she was not going to be happy at all when she awoke. Being a Shinobi was not a game, though, and no amount of skill and precision could prepare a ninja for combat. Wordlessly, he gathered up the small bundle of unconscious Hyuuga and returned to camp.

She woke a bare ten minutes later. He breathed a sigh of relief as she did; he had planned the blow well, but he was still glad to see her awake. She groaned and rubbed her head. "Itachi?" she croaked. He looked in her direction as she rolled onto an elbow. Once she saw that he was, in fact, present, she glared at him. "You hit me. What was all that about?"

Today was disappointing, he decided. He hadn't known how well she would react to the traps, but surely she saw the meaning in them? "Think about it, Hanabi," he sighed, "and tell me when you figure it out."

She snarled wordlessly, clearly unhappy. "This was supposed to be fun!" she shouted. "It was just going to be you and me, spending time together, and having fun! I hate your lessons  _and_  your attitude!" She turned over to face away from him, sulking.

He took a deep breath. He hadn't wanted to upset her, but he had had a little brother, not a little sister, and strength was important to boys. He was only doing what he felt he was supposed to as an elder brother: teaching her to defend herself. He could see now that she'd need to be handled much more delicately, but the trap was already sprung, and he wasn't going to abandon the mission. Not yet, anyway. He gathered his wits and tried to explain. "Hanabi, you're very talented," he began. He had learned that, when trying to fix an issue, it was best to place the issue in between compliments to dull the pain of insult. "But, you can never understand how well you react in a dangerous situation until it happens. Most times, Shinobi do not know when an attack is coming, but they must be prepared nonetheless. Your skills are significant… you just need to be quicker, and hone your instincts." He paused, trying to gauge whether or not she was listening, and continued. "The correct way to handle the situation was to use your rotation to deflect the kunai, your Gentle Fist to deflect the shuriken, and your Byakugan to sense, see, and avoid the rock. You expended more energy trying to determine why you were being assaulted than you did trying to deflect the attack. Actually, your rotation and Gentle Fist weren't bad."

She sniffled. "Thanks," she said on a pout. "I'm sorry I screwed it up."

He smiled, relieved that she seemed to be taking it better now. "You just weren't ready for it. Most Shinobi are not ready for their first skirmish, either. You're not supposed to get it right the first time. The lesson here is that you can be a genius, but still dead in an instant with the correct attack. Now you know that, and the lesson did not kill you. The kunai and shuriken were blunt wood, and the rock wasn't that heavy. Except that now, it will be more difficult to surprise you."

She sat up, regaining her composure. "There's another lesson here, isn't there?" she asked curiously.

He hadn't intended one, but clearly she saw one. He decided it would be good to encourage her intuition. "I had not considered another lesson, but what else did you learn?"

She smiled at the praise. "You can't even trust your brother not to try to kill you," she admitted sheepishly.

That caught him off guard. No, he had not considered that part of the lesson, but the true reasoning hit too close to home. He had trouble breathing for a moment, but he had promised her he would not get upset again, and he didn't want to let her down. Years of Shinobi discipline helped him regain his balance. "No, I suppose not," he mumbled.

She noticed how he had reacted when she said that. It was not a reaction she had expected, which meant she had touched on something sensitive. It must have had something to do with the family he had killed. She made a mental note to stop bringing up topics that might remind him of his past. "Sorry," she muttered.

"It's okay," he said, but didn't mean it. "You should get back to your training," he told her, changing the subject. "I want you to work on your reaction time, most notably the time it takes for you to ready your chakra. The way you learned was good, but its time to start honing your execution. As it stands, it takes you a few minutes to even be able to perform a rotation. You need to be faster than that."

"Okay," she replied, determination replacing the childish tantrum already.

"And Hanabi? Be ready for anything," he added. He expected her to stamp her foot, whine, roll her eyes, or put up a fight. Instead, she simply nodded, flashed a quick smile, and dashed off to her training ground.

Itachi never alerted Hanabi to his presence, and sprung the second set of traps just before sunset as she was slowing down from exertion. Her form still needed work, but she reacted much better this time and avoided injury of any sort. She would still need a lot of practice, but Itachi's goal for the week was to give her a rough sketch of the basics and let her perfect them in her own time. He was sure that the next time they saw each other, Hanabi would have lots of new tricks to show him.

They didn't talk much that night. Hanabi was understandably exhausted, and fell asleep minutes after finishing supper. Itachi made sure she was warm enough, gave her another hour, and then prepared for a different kind of exercise.

She awoke to find herself tied up snugly. "Itachi," she growled, thrashing her head from side to side, looking for her brother. He was nowhere to be found. "Itachi, let me go right now! Untie this! Come on!" Still he did not appear. Her breathing quickened, and real fear started to seep into her chest. "Itachi?" she squeaked.

New scenarios, each worse than the last, quickly blossomed in her imagination. Was this a test? What if Itachi had been kidnapped, and she had been tied up and left for dead? What if Itachi had intended this all along, and really had tried to kill her? She panicked and thrashed, throwing all scenarios out the window and deciding that only one thing was important: she did not want to be tied up.

She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. Where to begin? She pushed and prodded with her fingers, toes, arms, and legs. She wiggled this way and that, searching for a weak point in the tight encasement. She didn't find one. Quickly, she tested it all over again, hoping she'd just missed something. When that failed to turn up any new results, she simply tried to stretch the bonds by struggling with the faint hope that it might give her enough space to squirm out. It wasn't enough. Sighing with defeat, she thumped her head against the dirt and felt a wash of despair.

It only lasted a moment, though, and then Itachi's training kicked in. "Itachi always wants me to think," she said aloud. "If this is a test, and I assume that it is, since it's the only thing that makes sense, then he wants me to magic myself out of this with my brain. So, think, Hanabi, think!" Then, as if obeying her own command, she did just that. She walked herself through dozens of imaginary scenarios, trying to determine the best way to escape. Had he said something, or given a clue?

Yes!

A moment later, the ropes that had bound her so tightly fell away in shredded tatters. "With my chakra, I can do anything," she said aloud, smiling. "Good one, Itachi." She stood up, stretched, and dusted herself off. It felt good to be free. It felt even better to be smart. Now, where did that rogue ninja run off to? "Not even so much as a note," she grumbled. "How am I supposed to find him?"

Her chakra practically shouted at her to be used. Of course! She slapped her two hands together victoriously and pooled chakra to her eyes. "Byakugan!" Instantly, the world became brighter and simpler. She alternated between focus on a sharp point extraordinarily far away and scanning the broader area. Her skill with the Byakugan was not refined enough to see both at the same time. The result of her scan was a disappointing nothing. "I should have known it wouldn't be that easy," she sighed. She continued scanning anyway, since she didn't have an idea of what else to do.

Just when she was considering giving up and just waiting for Itachi to return, she caught a glimpse of something strange. The breeze had just blown something that had been obscured from her sight, and it swayed into her field of vision. She couldn't quite make it out, but it was hanging from a tree. Brimming with anticipation, she sprinted toward the object. She frowned as she neared and discovered its identity: a kunai.

She had just enough time to think that a hanging kunai seemed like an odd choice when a huge snake, larger than any animal she had ever seen in her life, slithered toward her from out of nowhere. She gasped and leapt backward reflexively. Its black, venomous tongue flicked out from between its fangs, tasting the air. Its huge, green-gold eyes fixated on her, and it started to move. Fast.

She had never been chased by an enemy before. It was an entirely new reaction than she'd ever experienced before. All ninja training fled her imagination, and her instincts swallowed her whole. All she could think to do was run as far away as quickly as possible. She didn't even stop to consider where she was headed or how to confront the creature chasing her. Her body was overtaken by blind terror.

When she was reasonably certain it wasn't following her anymore, she stopped to catch her breath. She strained her ears in the direction from which she had come, trying to hear any indication that it was out there and hoping she didn't. Silence. It was in that exact moment when the sounds disappeared that she realized her mistake, and she was automatically embarrassed.  _I am such a fool,_  she thought.  _Maybe I'm not supposed to be a ninja after all._  Tears welled up in her eyes without her permission, and she scrubbed them away angrily.

 _Start over, Hanabi_ , she urged herself. Easy enough to do, since she was completely lost and had no tools. The first conclusion she made was that she had no direction at all except the way she had come. It was too dark underneath the trees to know the location of the sun, and the terrain was unfamiliar. Her best chance was to track herself back to where she had started.

That meant she was likely going to run into that snake. She shuddered at the thought. It was also entirely possible that she could run into other dangerous creatures.  _Ninjas aren't afraid of forest animals_ , she told herself _. I have to be smarter than a snake._  Her fingers itched for want of a weapon, but even that was silly. Hanabi knew very well that the Gentle Fist technique could be far more deadly than any blade. Every living creature possessed tenketsu. With rigorous training, someday she'd be able to see them. Without that particular skill, her Gentle Fist would hurt and cripple, but she doubted she'd be able to kill anything. She mentally shrugged. She didn't need to kill it anyway; she only needed to immobilize it until she could find Itachi.

Hanabi took a deep breath and strode forward. It was easy enough to track her path back to their original camp; her frenzied flight into the wilds had left an obvious mark on the undergrowth. She easily located broken branches, bent brush, and evidence from her feet. Before too long, she found herself back at the swinging kunai. The snake had not reappeared, much to her relief. Something about creatures without legs seemed horrifyingly unnatural. She pulled the kunai down from the tree and held it in her hands, turning it over and over for any clues. It was just a plain kunai, to the naked eye. She tried observing it with her Byakugan, but that turned up nothing as well. It was, unfortunately, just an ordinary knife.

She turned her eyes onto the surrounding forest instead, hoping for any other clue. Perhaps the knife was merely one of many clues, and she just needed to hop between them. There was nothing. She put her brain back to work instead.

Itachi would have had to hang the kunai, so he must have left a trail. She dropped to the loamy earth and started to scour the area around the tree. The dirt was undisturbed. There were no bent twigs or crushed leaves. But, she remembered, Itachi favored perching in trees. Unfortunately, she had never learned how to climb trees using chakra, so she had to muscle her way up the tree using ninja wire and branches. There, upon the branch where the kunai had been tied, was about a tablespoon of earth where Itachi's foot must have rested. Hanabi felt a surge of pride and smiled.

Standing where Itachi had stood, Hanabi looked around. If she could find the path that she thought looked easiest, then Itachi had probably gone that way. Most of the canopy foliage was dense. There were only a few directions he could have gone, so which one made the most sense? She looked between the different ways that she could try, and in the end, the detail that decided her was that she didn't know how to leap through the treetops like he did, so she took the one and only path that she could physically travel. It was a long shot, but it felt good to decide logically.

After a few minutes, she was rewarded with another clue. A shuriken was embedded in one of the upper branches. She considered continuing the way she was headed, but a quick check of the time urged her to make camp. It was nearly sunset, and she neither had a camp nor anything to eat. She didn't have anything to make camp, however. Instead, she fashioned ninja wires to act as rails and made herself a bed in the treetops. Hopefully, that would protect her from nighttime predators, as well. The upper branches of Training Area Seventeen were lofty.

As for food, she was at a loss. She could not remember having seen any fruiting plants, edible mushrooms, or root vegetables in the undergrowth. The heavy shade produced by the canopy made it difficult for anything smaller to grow. Because there was little to eat, there was nothing to eat them either, so there were no small animals out and about either. Food was not going to happen. She had heard, though, that water was always more important than food, and that most creatures could live for days without food.

Where was water?

* * *

 

Itachi decided he hated teaching. When he was younger and had just become a jounin, he had idly fantasized what it might be like to have a team of genin older than he was. He always thought he would be an effective teacher, since he had an intrinsic understanding of what constituted "basic skills," and teamwork was not half as important as most of his elder Shinobi thought. At the basest of all levels, individual skills would trump teamwork any day. When you were separated from your comrades and left with nothing but your own wits, your teamwork would not save you from starvation, thirst, exposure, predators, and enemy ninja. And so, he had been disappointed when he realized he would never have a team of genin to shape in his image.

Hanabi had been a nice surprise. He had risen to the task of facilitating her ninja training with gusto. He had been systematically testing her on all of the areas he felt were important. So far, she had dabbled in throwing kunai. In the way that most important, she had failed that test, but she had surpassed expectations anyhow. She had mastered her doujutsu enough to use her body's tenketsu to escape her bonds and find his first clue. She had failed his Genjutsu test, but he had suspected that she had not been exposed to Genjutsu yet. The snake was a fake, obviously. She was able to track moderately well, and she had anticipated his movements and followed his trail through the trees. Then, she had correctly assumed that she would find no food and did not waste her precious time hunting for it. Instead, she remembered the recent snowmelt, and located anything in the forest remotely resembling a dish that had collected water. Now, she slept soundly in the tree closest to his last clue, untouched, so she could start tomorrow with fresh eyes and a preserved clue.

What he hated about teaching was standing by and watching. Her panic as she realized she was trapped back at camp made him feel guilty. He had not warned her in the slightest. Her terror as she fled his illusionary monster almost undid him. He very nearly dispelled the Genjutsu and went to her, then. But, when she slowed herself down and started thinking, he knew she could handle it and he backed off. He hesitated to even pull his final test, but he knew it was important.

After all, up until this point, it was possible that she had guessed it was all an exercise.

"HANABI!" a voice bellowed from the darkness, spearing straight through her slumber. She sat bolt upright, awake at once. That had been Itachi's voice. It was followed closely by a menacing hiss. The snake!

Her fear was erased. The only thought that mattered was that Itachi was in trouble. She dropped to the ground and rolled into a somersault. When she stood straight, her Byakugan was already blazing. She scanned the whole area, searching frantically for any sign of Itachi. Her ears strained to hear any sound at all.

"Hanabi, help!" his voice groaned from close by.

She focused her eyes on the sound and saw him. She dashed toward him, but slowed when she neared him. She could see he was bitten; the venom could probably kill him, but if she tended to his wound, they might both be attacked by the snake. "Itachi," she whispered loudly, "don't move!"

That's when the snake reared up in her peripheral vision, poised to strike. "Hanabi, I need help!" Itachi moaned, clutching at his bloody arm. She noted with dismay that it had begun to turn black. He was going to lose that arm if she didn't go to him now.

She turned her attention back to the snake. "Itachi, listen," she told him. "I can't help you right now. If I don't kill this snake, we might both die." She squared off to face the snake, placing her body between the murder in its yellow gaze and her brother. She could have sworn its eyes narrowed, and she could sense more than see that its muscles were coiling tight, preparing to strike.

Hanabi knew she could not duck. If she dodged, Itachi was dead. If she waited for it to make the first move, the results could be disastrous. She needed to strike. She opened herself to her chakra and felt the chilly tempest awaken within her. Focusing the chakra to her hands, she stepped forward, every tiny step critically important in her attack. Before the snake could lash out, she unleashed a flurry of jabs on and around its body. It hissed angrily and attempted to bite, but her attack had short-circuited its muscles, and they would not obey. It squirmed and thrashed uselessly. She wasted no time; she drew the kunai from the first clue and buried the point deep into its forehead, jerking viciously until it stopped moving.

As soon as it lay still, she turned her worried, superhuman eyes on Itachi. He was standing, smiling, and unharmed. "Very good, Hanabi," he said.

Her jaw dropped, and a moment later she was the picture of fury. "Even that was a test? You heartless bastard!" She flew at him, fists pounding at his chest.

Itachi let her beat him. If she were serious about hurting him, she'd be attacking with Gentle Fist, after all. She still didn't have a whole lot of physical strength, and her barrage wasn't all that painful.

Besides, she had been more worried than angry, and she gave up hitting him moments later. The tears spurted instead, and she sank to the ground, exhausted. "I was so worried!" she wailed. "I thought you were d-dying and I didn't know if I could s-save you," she stammered in between sobs.

He knelt and put his arms around her. It pained him to see her cry again. "Shh, hush little one," he whispered. "I'm fine. And," he added more loudly, "you're a better ninja than any genin I've ever met." He scooped her up in his arms and held her close, more for his own benefit than hers. True, she probably didn't have a burning desire to walk, but he had watched her suffer over the past twenty-four hours with concern and hunger, and he needed to absolve some of the guilt by caring for her.

"Thanks," she mumbled, reminiscent of a pout. "Did I figure out the puzzles?" she asked hopefully, soaking up the encouragement.

"We'll talk about specifics after you've had something to eat," he said gently. "I think you deserve a hot meal."

"Yay," she murmured happily, and he had to laugh.


	15. Strength

Timeline=4 years 8 months post massacre

* * *

 

Hinata steeled her resolve and knocked gently on the door of what had once been her home, hoping beyond hope that her father would let her enter. Once her grief had abated somewhat, she realized that her sister had sought out her company hoping Hinata could make her feel better. Looking back at the moment, she realized she had been the weaker sister, and now she was ashamed. When had her baby sister gotten to be so strong, she wondered?

Probably when she'd had to weather their father's attention all by herself… when playtime was cancelled indefinitely. When their mother died, perhaps. Any of those things…  _all_  of those things.

At first, no one answered the door, and she almost gave up. Just as she turned to go, she remembered the mournful, hollow expression on Hanabi's young face, and a pang of guilt attacked her. Absolutely not. She would not leave until she'd seen her sister. She turned back to the door and knocked harder. This time, moments later, Ko answered the door. "Lady Hinata!" he exclaimed with pleasure. "How lovely to see you!"

"Good afternoon, Ko," she greeted him politely, inclining her head. "I came to see my sister, if it's okay with Father."

Ko's eyes flickered back and forth within the house. His brow creased in concern, but he answered, "Lord Hiashi has been indisposed for several days. Hanabi might have upset him the other day."

Hinata's eyes widened, fearing the worst. "Is he…? Hanabi?" She couldn't ask the right questions, but luckily, Ko understood. He'd known her for her entire life, after all.

"I'm sure they're both fine, Lady Hinata. Just a little bit… sad. They've been in their rooms this whole time. Neither has left their sanctuaries for quite some time. I've been bringing them their meals myself. Come on in. I don't think anyone will mind." He smiled warmly and opened the door to admit her.

"Thanks, Ko," she said with a smile.

She knocked very gently on Hanabi's door. If her sister was awake, she'd be able to hear, but she didn't want her father to be alerted to her presence. She didn't think he'd really mind, but she didn't want to find out. Hanabi didn't answer. Hinata was torn. She'd been brought up to respect a closed door. If the person inside did not want you in, you did not go in. On the other hand, she and Hanabi had always been very close. Would Hanabi be angry if she entered her room without permission? Or would she be even more upset if Hinata gave up and left without saying hello? She was decided. She turned the handle as quietly as she could and pushed the door in, closing it quickly and quietly behind.

Hanabi was in bed, turned away from the door. Probably so that Hiashi could not see if she had been crying, Hinata decided. "Hanabi?" she called quietly.

"Hinata?" she answered back.

Hinata breathed a sigh of relief and moved closer. "May I come in?" she asked politely, a little after the fact. She knew it was moot, but manners were still somehow important to her.

"Sure," Hanabi answered, apparently too tired to comment on her having let herself in already.

Hinata clambered onto the bed next to her sister and rested one hand on her small shoulders. "The other day…" she began, unsure what to say. "Mother's birthday…I haven't been the sister you need, Hanabi, and I'm sorry." There was no answer from the younger Hyuuga. "I know you came to see me so that I could give you a hug and tell you everything was going to be okay. I know I'm not as strong as you, and I know you need me to be stronger sometimes. I want you to know that I'm sorry I'm not better, but I'm going to try. There's been this boy…" Hinata trailed off, her throat constricting. It was usually a lot easier to talk to Hanabi, but for some reason, every time she thought about the strange boy at the academy that the other students avoided, her stomach tightened up and her voice refused to obey her. "I'll tell you about him someday," she squeaked instead. "What I mean is that I want to be better. I'm working on it, okay? Hanabi?"

Her younger sister still said nothing. That was alarming, actually. She knew Hanabi was especially upset this time, but even so, the two of them were always quick to forgive. And anyway, Hinata had put a lot of thinking and effort into trying to be better, and talking about it wasn't easy. Surely Hanabi would have recognized that and made an effort to listen. Hanabi was extraordinarily perceptive. Tears sprang to her eyes. She experienced enough rejection in the world already. She needed Hanabi to be on her side. "Why aren't you listening to me?" she asked tremulously.

"I love you, Hinata," she answered quietly, "but I'm not really here." Hanabi turned over and made eye contact, and Hinata saw. It was a convincing copy, but nothing could replicate the life in the real Hanabi's face. She gasped involuntarily, clapping both of her hands to her mouth to try to muffle the noise, lest she alert their father. "I'm sorry, Hinata," she continued, "but there was something that I had to do."

"But Hanabi," she pressed, "when did you learn how to do this?"

"A few days ago," the clone of her sister answered. "We'll talk later. Please don't tell Father."

"You know I wouldn't," Hinata responded, feeling offended. "It hurts me that you'd think that."

Shadow Clone Hanabi shook her head sadly. "This clone of me is all jumbled inside. I didn't do it right. Please forgive me, Hinata. I'll do better next time." Hinata understood… the clone lacked Hanabi's personality and tact.

Hinata smiled happily, truly tickled by her sister's success. "You're perfect just the way you are, Hanabi," she declared, stroking the fake Hanabi's dark, silky hair. "You won't ever have to apologize to me. I love you."

"I love you, too, Hinata," she answered.

"Sleep now. We'll talk when you get back. Come find me, okay?" She stood and headed for the door. She hoped that, wherever the real Hanabi was, she would take care of herself.

"Okay," the clone answered meekly. "Bye…"

* * *

 

They opened their eyes simultaneously, each smiling at the realization. Neither said a word. Nothing needed to be said.

Hanabi felt stronger, deep down to the bone. Itachi had given her a dangerous and rigorous test, and she had passed. In one fell swoop, she had impressed the most important man in her life and proven to herself that she could be a good Shinobi. Her confidence was soaring, and she felt as if she could handle anything. With that newfound confidence, she found herself confronting difficult issues with relative ease.

She missed her mother, and regretted that she had not known her better. Nonetheless, she could see why she had distanced herself from her mother now. She understood that her mother's pain made her uncomfortable, and she had not known how to handle it. She knew, too, that her mother must have known how she felt. Her mother was too kind to have faulted her for it. Somewhere in the heavens, her mother was looking down on her now, trying to tell her that she loved her little girl no matter what.  _I love you, too,_  Mother, she thought.  _I'll take care of Hinata and Father both._

Her father was a touchy matter. Hiashi could not change the way he was. He would always value honor and discipline more than love and joy. She could not hate him for it. Somehow, their mother had loved him enough to give him two daughters despite his shortcomings, so she was sure that she could, too. She would accept his harsh training methods and try to see the wisdom in his actions, and she would try very hard to forgive him when he punished her or Hinata even if she struggled to understand why.

Hinata was not as strong as Hanabi was, but she never really minded that. She would simply need to accept that Hinata's limitless capacity for compassion had certain side effects. Hinata had a softer heart than most, and it would probably take a lot longer before she could embrace the danger and sadness of being a Shinobi. Until her sister grew into her full strength, Hanabi would have to be Hinata's shield. It was an honor in which she would gladly immerse herself. Hinata was a beautiful person, and she could definitely use a strong ally.

And Itachi…she knew their time together would be ending soon, and she was not ready to say goodbye. But, he had given her a gift no one else could have. He had ceased treating her like a child and treated her as an equal, a Shinobi. He had recognized her strength and enhanced it. He had given her the tools she needed to better herself, and thus, protect Hinata. He had provided her with her first brush with danger, and she saw now that the hesitations he had trained out of her would have killed her in a real attack.

More importantly, he had accepted his role as her older brother, and there was no longer any question that they needed one another. Never again would she worry that he might not return for her. She would not wonder if he loved her and missed her. He kept no more secrets from her, and she could already tell that he was better for it. He seemed lighter, like the world wasn't as awful a place as he had thought. She felt happy that she had been a part of making him happy, and it was nice to see him smile more.

Everyone deserved to be happy.

She didn't wonder too much about what had happened with his family. It didn't matter to her. Itachi was the most wonderful person she'd ever met besides her sister. If he had killed someone, they must have deserved it. In fact, if he ever felt someone needed to be killed again, she hoped fervently that he would let her help and share the burden. She thought about the snake she had killed, even though it wasn't real. It had been her first kill, and strangely, dealing death hadn't bothered her so much. That snake had tried to kill someone important. She mulled that thought over for a minute, and decided that it was okay to kill someone if they were trying to hurt people who didn't deserve it.

She gazed into the deep, eternal red eyes of her brother. Not for the first time, she was amazed by how pretty they were, like polished rubies made more beautiful simply by being alive. "What do your eyes do?" she asked aloud.

His lashes fluttered as he considered the question. "They show people what I want them to see," he answered unhappily. He was uncomfortable talking about it.

"Is that why you don't turn them off anymore?" she asked innocently.

Itachi swore inwardly. How was it that this child always managed to ask deep, philosophical questions that nailed his most sensitive issues?  _No more secrets_ , he reminded himself. _Not with her._ "Yes, I suppose," he answered.

"What do you want them to see?" she continued, curious. She'd never met anyone else with eyes like his.

He took a deep breath, and answered honestly. "That I am dangerous."

She nodded, considering his answer carefully. "Because you don't want them to know you are a nice person," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," he answered anyway.

"Can you tell me why?" she asked. It didn't make a whole lot of sense to her. She had been raised to be polite and kind; being a nice and proper person was the height of social accomplishment in her family.

"It's complicated," he responded. He didn't intend to keep it from her, but he wasn't sure how to explain. "When you are older, and you have met more Shinobi, you might understand. Being a Shinobi isn't always about being the strongest. It's also about being the smartest. Know your enemy. Know who is an enemy. Know what they will do, and act accordingly. Make them think they are in control, and keep control at all times. It's a game, Hanabi, a deadly game that plays with people's lives."

She nodded, understanding his words more or less. "You want people to think you are dangerous so that they will fear what you will do," she stated.

"It is important that you realize that I really am very dangerous," he corrected. "I have killed people, and it's not difficult for me." He watched her carefully. He loved her, and he didn't want her to fear him, but she needed to know of what he was capable.

She raised her chin up defiantly. "Yes it is," she countered. "Because you are a nice person and you don't want to kill people."

He smiled genuinely. "You're brilliant, you know that?" he told her warmly, feeling proud. "If you keep reading people so easily you will always be the one in control. I feel sorry for your enemies."

She smiled shyly back. "You taught me how," she said with modesty.

He chuckled. "No, I didn't. That's what's so frightening." It was true. The girl had a natural talent for insight. She saw things most people did not see. She looked into you at the eyes, saw what you didn't want anyone to know, and asked the kind of profound questions that made you consider things you'd never considered before. She'd shown him that when she was just three years old. When she was grown, there wouldn't be an emotion or a secret that was safe from her knowing about it.

They grew quiet again.

Itachi observed the tiny ninja, in awe of how she had affected him so quickly and so thoroughly. When he had carried out that fateful mission so many years before, he had known—known!—that he would never recover from the damage it had left on his soul. He was still damaged, he knew, but it was different now. Her unconditional love had strengthened him. She had healed all of the tiny hairline cracks in his sanity and kept him from falling into oblivion.

Itachi was a creature of darkness. Or rather, a creature of the light squelched by the darkness. For him, there would never be a glorious return to the light. His crimes were heinous and unforgivable. He had forever lost his little brother, and would never again see his mother or father. The only woman he had ever loved had destroyed his ability to trust another lover, and no relationship could exist without that trust. He was doomed, a hollow shell of a person walking the earth as one already dead, like a zombie, marching slowly and jerkily to his true death.

And he would die. He had decided it long ago. In his dying, he would gift the brother he had robbed of everything with the only thing he could: his eyes. With them, Sasuke would stand alone as the strongest ninja in the world. Only then would his brother be safe. He had accepted his death already, but living only to die was a hard thing to do. He had found it difficult to exist knowing that no one would miss him. His legacy was painful and tarnished. There was no one who would not cheer to learn of his death.

Until  _her_.

Spontaneously, he grabbed her and squeezed her so tight that she squealed and spluttered out protests to release her. His eyelids smashed together, and tears trailed down his cheeks. "Thank you, Hanabi," he whispered brokenly, "for loving me."

The girl relaxed in what was surely a death grip, realizing why he was squishing her so hard. She wrapped her arms around his back and managed to find a tiny gap in his clothing to breathe through. She could endure a little forceful affection. She would have told him "you're welcome" but for the inability to speak. She hoped the hug would tell him what she could not.

* * *

 

"I was thinking…" Hanabi began as they neared the Village. "Do you think we could do this every year? If we met at Training Ground Seventeen, you wouldn't have to worry about being seen."

He smiled at the suggestion, and considered it carefully. It was definitely a lovely thought, but he worried about setting a time. There was always the chance that he'd be off doing Leader's dirty work, or that Kisame might follow him. That reminded him that Kisame was likely pretty upset about how he had left him.

"I know that look," Hanabi accused, interrupting his thoughts. "You think it's a bad idea."

"No," he corrected her quickly. "It's a wonderful idea, I just don't know if it's possible and I don't want to disappoint you." He liked being honest with her far better than lying.

She preferred him honest as well. "Oh," she said, retreating into herself to try to come up with a better plan. "Would it work if we set potential meeting dates? Say, three times a year? If you can't come, it's not a big deal. It's not very far for me." She grinned, happy with how that plan sounded.

He nodded. "That could work. How about every summer new moon? It will be completely dark then, so there is less of a chance of you being followed, and you'll be able to see with your Byakugan no matter how dark it is."

She clapped her hands with glee. "Yay! Every summer new moon, then. I'll meet you at Training Area Seventeen."

"Perfect," he agreed. "I must go, now." He squatted and held his arms open.

She enfolded herself in his arms and hugged him back. "I'll miss you, Itachi," she told him, threatening to cry again.

"No more crying," he reminded her. "Practice hard and be smart," he commanded. "And don't let anyone come between you and your sister."

"I won't," she promised. "Don't give up on your brother, Itachi." His breath caught on the admonishment. "I'm sure that despite what he must be feeling, deep down he'll always love you like I do. It's impossible not to love you."

He breathed. Her words had succeeded in comforting him this time. "I won't," he promised honestly. "Thanks, Hanabi. For everything."

They said their goodbyes, and Hanabi sneaked into her bedroom through the window. She dismissed the shadow clone soon after. Suddenly, a tiny nugget of knowledge blossomed in her consciousness. Hinata knew she'd been gone. She sighed heavily. She wasn't going to get out of explaining what had happened, and she never lied to Hinata. Hinata would understand, wouldn't she?


	16. Keeping Secrets

Timeline=4 years 8 months post massacre

* * *

 

“Hinata?” Kurenai’s voice beckoned softly from beyond her closed door. “Your sister is here.”

“Thank you, Kurenai-sensei,” she responded, and went to the door.

When she opened it, there was Hanabi, staring at her toes sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Hinata,” Hanabi grumbled. She hated to keep secrets from her sister and really did not like making her worry. There were plenty of reasons to apologize.

Hinata grasped her hand and yanked her in close for a hug. “Didn’t I say not to apologize?” she asked, relieved. Hinata had tremendous faith in her younger sister, but she worried anyway. “Come in, and let’s talk. Tell me everything.” She needed to know what could have been so important for her little sister to go through so much to conceal it. Both Hanabi and herself valued honor, morals, and manners. Hanabi wasn’t the sneaking out type.

“We’re building a blanket fort, first,” Hanabi insisted, eyes sparkling. “I think they have must have special magic that keep secrets in.” Hinata’s answering grin was all they needed.

By the time they had finished building the fort, both girls were more relaxed. Hinata’s worry had all but faded, and Hanabi no longer feared that Hinata was upset with her. They sat very close together on cushions in the main room of their swathed castle, just like old times. “I need to tell you something,” Hanabi began, fidgeting with her fingers. “I need you to tell me you won’t tell Father, or anyone. It’s important. Life or death.”

Hinata’s eyes widened. “Life or death?” One hand rose to her chest as if to calm her thundering heart. “Is everything alright? You’re not in trouble, are you?” Her mind raced, thinking of all the reasons Hanabi might ask such a thing. Who would harm her sister?

Hanabi shook her head. “No, Hinata, it’s not like that. Just promise, okay? Please?” she pleaded, taking Hinata’s hands into her own. She needed Hinata’s word. If Hinata told anyone, Itachi might be captured and killed.

Hinata calmed, telling herself to be stronger. It was a work in progress. “You know you can trust me, Hanabi. I promise. Just tell me.”

Hanabi took a deep breath and let it out. “A few years ago, I met someone. A secret friend.” _Brother_.

“O-okay?” Hinata offered cautiously. Secret friends could not be good. Their father had taught them to never trust strangers, and never meet one alone. Hanabi had done both of those things.

“The reason no one must know is that he is a ninja.” Hanabi watched her face, searching for any hints of alarm, recognition, or disapproval. She fiercely hoped that Hinata would understand.

“Okay?” A strange ninja. Less good. Hinata wasn’t sure she liked her sister’s reckless decision.

“His name is Itachi.” Hanabi was hopeful that she wouldn’t need to explain any further. She didn’t want to give voice to Itachi’s crimes, because she truly didn’t believe in them. She needed Hinata to like him, and talking about mass murder wasn’t going to help, probably.

Hinata’s eyes gazed off far away. The name sounded familiar. “Itachi… Itachi…” she said aloud, trying to trigger a memory. “Where have I heard that?” She was sure she had heard it somewhere, and something niggling at the back of her brain told her that where she had heard it was vitally important to how she should feel about the name.

“He’s part of the Uchiha clan,” Hanabi offered helpfully, waiting for recognition to dawn.

Hinata gasped. “You mean there was another survivor of the Massacre?” she asked with excitement, eyes shining.

Hanabi fixed her with a deadpan stare, her heart sinking in her chest. That reaction wasn’t likely to gain Itachi any sympathy when Hinata realized what Hanabi had meant. It took a minute to sink in.

Hinata jerked her hands away, her face pale. “Oh no, Hanabi. No.” She shook her head in disbelief. Surely she didn’t mean…?

“Hinata—“ she begged, grabbing for her hands again, trying to placate her.

“NO!!!” she shrieked, slapping Hanabi’s hands away. Hanabi gasped. Both of them stared at each other in horror. Hinata had never struck in anger before; it had caught them both by surprise. She stared at her own hands and Hanabi looked away.

A soft knock sounded at the door. “Hinata, Hanabi? Is everything okay in there?” Kurenai asked with concern.

Hinata looked at Hanabi, who was panicking already. “Please, Hinata, let me explain,” she begged. If Hinata chose to tell her sensei, Kurenai would likely tell the authorities, and she’d be in big trouble. Also, they’d know that Itachi was nearby and track him down. “Don’t say anything. Please!”

Hinata struggled to decide, unsure if she thought her sister’s foolishness needed to be addressed or if she should trust in Hanabi’s judgment, and Kurenai asked again. In the end, sibling loyalty won. “We’re fine!” she called. “Sorry about the noise!” She regarded Hanabi out of the corner of her eye unhappily.

“Okay,” Kurenai relented. Her footsteps moved away from the door.

“I trust you, Hanabi,” Hinata assured her. “But I’ll decide for myself if I think you’re being tricked, okay?” She still wasn’t comfortable with the situation, but she would give. For now.

“Okay,” Hanabi agreed. She told her older sister everything she knew about Itachi and everything they had done. Through it all, Hinata listened intently and did not interrupt.

When she had finished, Hinata had something to add. “I know his brother,” she said with a trace of sadness. “Sasuke is in my class. He acts cool and pretends like nothing bothers him, but he always seemed sad somehow. I had heard that his brother had killed their whole family. I don’t think we’re supposed to know, but people talk about it sometimes. I’ve always thought what a horrible person he must be to do such a thing, but after hearing you talk, I wonder. What do you think? I mean, really?”

“I think he did it to save his brother,” she explained, “I just don’t know from what. I didn’t ask. He doesn’t like to talk about it because it hurts him to say. And,” she added with a grimace, “I’m sure he thinks I’m too young to understand.” She hated it when people treated her like a child. She felt older than she was.

“Wow,” Hinata breathed. “That’s a hell of thing to do to save someone you love.” She clapped a hand over her mouth with shock, realizing she had cussed. Her face reddened, and Hanabi giggled. “I’m sorry!” She exclaimed, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean it!”

“It’s okay, Hinata!” Hanabi assured her, still laughing. It did sound strange to hear from her sweet, softspoken sister. “But, yeah. I wonder if I can help in any way to fix the situation. You said you know his brother, right?”

Hinata’s eyes widened. “No, Hanabi! We can’t interfere with this! It’s too personal! Besides, Sasuke is angry and hates Itachi. I don’t think he knows Itachi was protecting him. We can’t tell him. We don’t really know what we’re doing. He wouldn’t believe us, and I don’t think Itachi would appreciate it either. We might just end up making everything worse.”

She remembered what Itachi had said about knowing things and having plans, and decided that he probably had a better handle on the situation than she did. “Yeah,” she agreed, “you’re probably right.” Maybe one day she’d think of her own web of plans and pieces, and do something for him. She wasn’t ready for that, though, so best not to try that yet.

“Hanabi,” Hinata said, her voice dropping and sounding graver. “Promise me you won’t meet him again without me?” Trust or no trust… Hanabi was not yet officially a ninja, and Hinata felt very protective of her younger sister. She needed to see who her sister was hanging out with before she could truly decide if that was alright with her or not.

Hanabi had never considered the possibility before. She wasn’t sure what she thought about it, actually. She rather preferred being alone with him. He made her feel special and strong. Would it be different if she brought Hinata along? She read Hinata’s emotions: worry, determination, and… excitement? She had to know. “Why?” she asked defensively.

Hinata fidgeted, her fingers kissing. “Well, if you think of him as your brother, doesn’t that mean I get a brother, too?” She’d never thought about having a brother. Sometimes it felt like Neji might be kind of like a brother, but she wasn’t sure that she liked that much. He acted like he hated her. But Hanabi enjoyed this brother, so maybe she could, too.

Hanabi grinned, all doubts fled. “Oh! Of course!” She hugged her sister. “You’ll love him. He’s the best brother in the entire world!”

Hinata frowned, jealous for the first time. “Is he a better brother than I am a sister?”

Hanabi’s heart ached for her. “Oh, Hinata, of course not! You’re the best sister in the entire world! I don’t know how, but, it’s just different somehow. You’ll see. You’ve never had a brother before, so you couldn’t know what I mean. Not yet.”

“Oh!” she breathed, relieved. “So I can come with you next time? I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” she added hurriedly. “And I’ll be careful no one sees.”

“Sure,” Hanabi affirmed. “I think he’ll want to meet you, too!” Itachi was always interested in how her sister was doing. He cared about things that she cared about.

“I hope so!” Hinata exclaimed honestly. “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, though,” Hinata began.

“Hm?” Serious stuff aside, Hanabi took a spot behind her sister and started fiddling with her hair. This was normal for them, so Hinata grew very still and continued speaking.

“Well, the final exam for the academy is coming up and… well, I’m worried I won’t…pass.” Her mood had noticeably darkened.

Hanabi recognized her sister’s lack of self-confidence. It was always hard for her to watch because she wasn’t really sure what she could do about it. “Hm,” she thought. “Well, do you know what’s going to be on it?”

“Well, no,” she admitted, “but some of the other students think it’s going to be the clone jutsu since so many of us are so bad at it. Well, what I mean to say is, some of us are bad at it.” She blushed. “Me, and… other people.”

“Like who?” she coaxed, combing Hinata’s hair through her fingers. “You really should grow your hair out longer,” she said as a side. “It would be sooo pretty!”

Hinata smiled. “You say that every time,” she murmured affectionately.

“Because it’s still just as true as it ever was,” Hanabi retorted. “Well, if you need help with your clone jutsu, I did just learn it several days ago.” She grinned broadly. “Itachi taught me so that I could sneak out. He’s so smart!”

Hinata’s heart fluttered, glad for the help. “That would be really nice, Hanabi. Thank you! I’ve been so worried. If Naruto passes and I don’t, that would be just awful!” Thinking of being separated from him indefinitely was upsetting.

Hanabi’s hands paused. “Who?” she asked, confused.

It struck Hinata that she had finally told Hanabi his name, and she flushed from head to toe a scarlet red. “Um… um…!” She couldn’t say it again.

“Naruto?” Hanabi offered helpfully. Hinata nodded, embarrassed. Hanabi laughed. “Oh my, do you have a crush?” she shrieked.  “That’s…fantastic! I can’t wait to meet him!” She kissed Hinata’s cheek and was happy for her. If Hinata had a goal in mind, it might give her what she needed to find her strength. She needed something to fight for.

Hinata swallowed, regaining her composure. “He doesn’t know,” she whispered, barely audible. “It’s just… he seems so lonely, but he’s stronger than anyone can see. I don’t know.” It was difficult to talk about him. Her stomach tied into knots and her mouth went dry.

“Like you!” Hanabi declared. Hinata blushed again and smiled under the praise. “Come on, Hinata, you’re going to need to embrace how awesome you are eventually. You _are_ strong, _and_ smart, and I don’t care what Father says. He and… and Naruto will realize just how strong you can be. Trust me! You just need to work hard and believe in yourself as much as I believe in you.” She dropped Hinata’s locks and let all of her work unravel as she stood. “Come on, we’ll start with this clone jutsu and your final exam. Baby steps. For now, focus on becoming a genin.” She held out her hand to help Hinata up.

Hinata stared up at her younger sister, now as ever admiring her inner strength. Perhaps she could be strong, she thought, but never as strong as Hanabi. She cursed her lack of confidence and quashed the pang of jealousy. She knew jealousy was probably normal, but Hanabi was Hanabi. She was beautiful, smart, and tough, and Hinata loved her to bits. If she was wonderful, it was because she made herself that way. Hinata would just have to make herself that way, too. She reached out and grasped Hanabi’s hand.

 _Someday_ , she thought, _I’ll catch up to all of you, and we’ll walk together… Hanabi… Naruto… But first, I needed to see why it was so important._

_Thanks, Hanabi._

 

 


	17. The Raven

Timeline=5 years 10 months post massacre

* * *

 

At eight years old, Hanabi’s body was obviously betraying her. Her legs kept growing longer than the rest of her body, and she could never keep her balance anymore. It was making training to be a ninja harder than it needed to be, and idly, she wondered if that was why students typically didn’t graduate from the academy until age twelve. Did their teachers worry that a growth spurt would cost them their lives? It was almost funny, except that her legs ached all the time on top of it. Actually, the idea wasn’t unreasonable. Balance was complicated… it was hard to keep her legs going properly beneath her. 

“I don’t know how you did it,” Hanabi complained to her sister. “My thighs are on fire!” She rubbed them furiously, but it never did any good. As soon as she stopped rubbing them, they ached all over again.

Hinata chuckled. “Oh, you just wait. It gets so much worse.”

“Great,” Hanabi grumbled, rolling her eyes.

“Explain to me again why we have to come here when it’s black as night?” Hinata prompted nervously.

“Because we’re the only ones who can see in the dark,” she said in return. “We’re almost there, see?” She pointed up ahead to where the gate for Training Area Seventeen rose up like a shadow castle in a shroud of nightmares. The overgrown trees bristled out of the top like a jagged crown, in stark contrast to weed-choked fields all around. “He and I spent about a week here last year, and he taught me how to survive.”

Hinata wasn’t so sure. Training Area Seventeen looked a lot like Training Area Forty Four, which her superiors lovingly referred to as The Forest of Death. She and her genin comrades had nearly died a hundred times in that treacherous landscape. She’d already asked Hanabi a hundred questions about what kinds of frightening predators might live in there, and she still wasn’t about to believe that not a single animal was making its home in the dark embrace of the trees. The Forest of Death had man-eating leeches, giant snakes, and all sorts of other ghastly insects that were too large and too carnivorous. And, if anything was living in there, it needed to eat. “I do not give up,” she whispered to herself by rote. Naruto had inspired much of her growth as a Shinobi. It was he that taught her how never giving up on your goals could make you strong, even if achieving them seemed impossible. So, she swallowed her fears and accompanied her little sister to her rendezvous.

Besides, she told herself, if anything was off about this Itachi, her sister might need her help. Hanabi was strong, but only one of them was officially a Shinobi, though Hanabi was on track to graduating early, much to Hinata’s glee and Hanabi’s dismay.

It wasn’t that Hanabi did not want to be a ninja; she just wasn’t too keen on her classmates. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be placed on a squad with anybody. As soon as that happened, she’d have to go on group outings and do group training, and her personalized training would suffer. And, what if she was too busy or on a mission during the summer new moon? She wouldn’t be able to see Itachi, then.

At this very moment, however, Hanabi was thrilled. This was the first summer new moon after they had promised to meet every year. She and her sister had even prepared for the occasion. They had baked carrot cupcakes. They were even dressed differently. Hinata had worn a white summer frock. Hanabi had opted for something more military. She didn’t want Itachi to think she had strayed from her path to becoming a ninja. She wore her training clothes, a pair of loose fitting black pants and a black shirt over regulation mesh.

They slid in through the gate and made their way to the bramble bushes. Hinata desperately tried to avoid the thorns for fear of her new dress, but it snagged a few threads anyway, much to her sorrow. They had prepared to camp for a few days, just in case he was running late. Hinata built a fire while Hanabi set out things for dinner and sleep. She could barely contain her excitement. This was the first time they had actually planned a meeting, and she’d had a whole year and then some to work up her excitement.

 _“Cawcawcaw!”_ shrilled a black bird as it alighted on the branches above them.

Hinata flinched. “Didn’t you say nothing lived in these woods?” she asked, already looking around in case anything else lived there too. Though she had grown braver over the years, she didn’t believe that that meant she should unwittingly seek danger.

Hanabi stared at the bird, confused. “Yeah, because nothing lives here,” she insisted. “It must just be passing through. Ignore it. It probably wants our food. You do bake some pretty good carrot muffins.”

“Okay,” Hinata responded uncertainly, hugging the tin of muffins to her chest to protect them. “Not for you,” she said to the bird.

“CAW!” It persisted, dancing left and then right, bobbing its head up and down. “CAWCAW! CAAAAAW!”

“Go away!” Hanabi shouted at it. “You aren’t welcome here!” She picked up a rock and chucked it at the thing.

To their surprise, the bird caught it and glared at them out of one beady black eye.

“I think it’s a raven,” Hinata said tremulously. Ravens were much larger than crows. “And I think it’s listening.” It’s stare was too intent, and it seemed far too interested in what they were saying.

“It’s just a bird, Hinata,” Hanabi tried to explain. “It doesn’t understand our language.” Despite her words, she eyed the thing warily. It did seem to be listening, and that was pretty unsettling.

“Caw…” it purred around the rock in its beak. It then leaned over and banged the rock on the branch. Knock, knock. It paused and stared at them. They stared back. Knock, knock. Again it paused.

“Is it waiting for something?” Hinata asked her sister, her heart pounding in her chest. This was all too weird for her, and the situation was making her nervous.

“Um, I’m not sure.” Knock, knock. She shrugged and relented. “Who’s there?”

The raven dropped the rock and ruffled its wings. “CAW!” It turned its head again and watched them.

“Caw who?” Hanabi asked it.

“CAW!”

They all exchanged glances, the two girls and the bird, but it didn’t say anything else. Hanabi rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t very original. How lame.” Apparently, it had said everything it felt it needed to say. Unfortunately, it didn’t leave either. Hinata and Hanabi tried to ignore its presence, but Hanabi was growing increasingly annoyed; Itachi had not arrived.

Hinata sensed the girl’s distress and patted her arm. “Don’t worry Hanabi. He probably got caught up. I’m sure he’ll show.” She sounded more confident than she felt. Already, she doubted he was coming at all. If this meeting had been important to him, he’d have been here already, waiting. Hanabi was a wonderful friend, and anyone should look forward to spending time with her. Itachi would never be forgiven if he let her sister down.

Hanabi was heartbroken, and it tore Hinata up inside. “I hope you’re right,” Hanabi mourned, nibbling at one of their cupcakes and staring at the unwelcome bird.

As they waited, gnawing slowly on cupcakes, Hanabi grew more and more upset, while Hinata grew more and more angry. It was an unfamiliar feeling to her. Hinata had felt disappointment, loneliness, and self-deprecation. She had not, to her recollection, ever been truly angry. Itachi had the honor of being the first person in the world to have earned her anger. She seethed inwardly as she put on a strong front for her younger sister. That much, at least, she was grateful for—that she could be strong for Hanabi.

The damnable raven played the albatross and refused to leave their little camp. It had more or less shut up at least, though occasionally it cawed as softly as a raven could, just to remind them that it was still there.

The next two days were much the same. Hanabi, forlorn. Hinata, enraged. Raven, nonplussed. As the moon began to wax back into the sky, Hanabi was forced to accept that Itachi was not coming. She made eye contact with her elder sister. They didn’t need any words. Hinata had waited for the moment with dread; she always hated to see Hanabi’s hopes extinguished. Hinata sighed and squeezed the younger girl’s hand.

There was less to pack now. The campfire wood had all been burned away. The carrot muffins and rations were gone. Whether or not Hanabi was ready to leave, they could not have stayed much longer. With naught but a shrug in the used campsite’s general direction, they were away, and with far less fanfare as when they had arrived.

As they squeezed through the still locked gate and it clanked behind them, their old friend the Raven alighted upon the top of the post. “CAW!” it still insisted.

“Oh shut up, you!” Hanabi growled at it, kicking at the dirt in frustration. “Can’t you see when you’re not wanted? We didn’t come here to visit with you. Now go back where you came from and if you see Itachi, you tell him to never come back again!” She bit back a sob, turned, and fled from the bird.

Hinata glanced worriedly at the Raven before jetting after her sister. It wasn’t like her to show this much negative emotion. Hanabi had always been a bubble of joy and hope in her life. Even when their mother had died and their father had worked them both so hard, Hanabi had clung to her innocence like a drowning man to wreckage in a storm, as if she could save them all if she was just stubborn enough. Hanabi had always been the strong one. Even sobbing and fleeing, Hinata sensed that it was only the beginning. This was clearly the first crack in her sister’s invincible wall of defense.

Itachi was her Achille’s Heel.

She bit her lip and steeled her resolve. Weak, fretful and doubtful as she might generally be, there were two things in this cruel world that mattered to her more than her own life: Hanabi, and Naruto, in that order. Somehow, when Hanabi was suffering, Hinata could find some secret well of strength within her. She just wasn’t sure what to do with it once it filled her up.

She didn’t catch up to her sister until Hanabi had reached her destination. There weren’t many places she could hide and be alone, but the crack in the wall near the house they’d shared as children was one. Hanabi was folded into a ball against the wall, head and knees encased in her spindly arms. Hinata knew the first move: she put her arms around Hanabi’s bony shoulders and rested her head against hers. Even though she worried it might not be true, she whispered, “He might have been held up somehow.”

For a minute, Hanabi said nothing, just snuffling away the last remnants of the weeping that she’d made sure no one had seen. She lifted her head just high enough for her puffy eyes to peer out over her arms, staring off at nothing with hatred that could sear beef. “You don’t understand, Hinata, and I don’t expect you to. You don’t know him. If he said he’d be here, he should be here. He promised. He keeps his promises.”

“Why would he break his promise, then?” Hinata pressed. With luck, perhaps Hanabi could justify his absence and calm down.

Hanabi bit into her arm, thinking. Why indeed? So many thoughts had flown through her mind as she’d waited out there beyond the rusted and foreboding gates of Training Area Seventeen. Was Itachi dead? It was entirely possible. He didn’t exactly lead a safe life in the meadows of Grass Country. In fact, ignoring her and not showing up on purpose was probably the least likely scenario, and yet… somehow, inexplicably she felt bone-deep that that was true. Somehow Itachi must have betrayed her. Why did she think that? She had no reason to doubt him.

Frantically, she scanned the contents of her soul, and what she found there scared her. “Everybody leaves me,” she breathed to the wind.

Hinata hoped she had heard wrong. “What?”

“Everybody leaves me,” she repeated, over and over again. “Everybody leaves me. Everybody. Even you. Even Mother. Even him.”

Hinata recoiled as if struck. “Hanabi,” she admonished, “please don’t say that!” The tears were already pouring down her cheeks. “I never wanted to, and we found each other again, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “And I love you, sister, I do. It’s just that… I don’t want to be alone anymore.” She turned her pained, pale eyes to Hinata. “Father sent you away. Mother died. Even Father hid himself inside his own heart and inside his room. Itachi never stays. You can’t stay. Father doesn’t want to. Must I…” she broke then, the tears erupting from her eyes. “Must I always face the world alone?”

Hinata hugged her fiercely. “I wish it weren’t so, sweet Hanabi. What I wouldn’t give to see you happy all the time! But yes, it is a hard lesson and one I, too, have learned. The path of the Shinobi is walked both as one and many. You will always have many brothers and sisters, and yet you will be an orphan all the same. No one ever understands.”

Hanabi heard the emptiness reflected in Hinata’s voice and knew it to be true. Her sister suffered as she did, and had for far longer. They held each other and cried together, sharing their pain. It helped a little, but it likely made things worse. When this day was over, Hinata would go back home to Kurenai, and Hanabi would be alone again.

Later that afternoon, as Hanabi meditated and worked her chakra, she was greeted by a familiar face. “Caw,” the raven stated.

Hanabi started, surprised that the Raven had sneaked up on her. Anger welled up within her that the thing had even followed her home. She was further enraged when she realized that it had brought friends. About a dozen friends, as if to mock her loneliness by flaunting its connections. “CAW!” it repeated, hunching its shoulders. “CAWCAWCAW!” Was it laughing at her?

“Curse you!” she shouted at the progenitor, standing. Time to teach the wretched birds a lesson. They had interrupted her practice time, after all. With a smirk, she stilled and let the chakra flow. Feeling the river of energy within her, both warm and cool at the same time, calmed her. The frightful, irritating birds became nothing more than moving targets. The storm of negative emotions inside her became more a quiet hum in the back of her mind. She was a wisp of energy in the fabric of time and space, keenly aware of the weapons at her disposal and the trajectories they would have.

She drew her weapons and a deep breath as one. Then, she threw her kunai straight up into the air, one after another. When she was finished, she exhaled her air and flowed into a light-toed stance, waiting. Feeling. Sensing. Finally, just as the rain of knives descended upon her expectant form, she Rotated. It was a perfect spin, slightly elongated to force angles upon her weapons, a shape she manipulated with relative ease. Satisfying squawks and thunks announced she had aimed well. When the choreographed maneuver was finished, she observed. All of the birds were pinned and bleeding on the trees behind them.

She didn’t even have the time to feel pity for them before they popped and disappeared as if they had never existed. Her breath escaped her in surprise. Shadow Clone birds?

“Caw!” The original Raven’s voice echoed from the treetops, and it floated down to land in front of her, just above the level of her eyes. It turned its head and stared at her 

Why had she not noticed the bloodied red signature of the Sharingan in those beady black eyes before? She smiled involuntarily. Strangely enough, she felt rather than saw the bird smile back. “Caw,” it said to her, its tone entirely different from before.

Hanabi threw back her head and laughed. 

* * *

 

Far away, Itachi opened his eyes and smiled. “I’d never forget about you, little sister.” He pushed himself to his feet and donned his hat.

“Did you say something, Itachi?” Kisame asked, curious.

“No,” Itachi lied. It came so easily to him. Kisame, as usual, saw right through the lie. But, as usual, he ignored it. More and more, Itachi found himself wanting to trust the other man, but knew intrinsically that that would be a mistake. A pity that they had not met during kinder times; Itachi felt a great deal of respect for Kisame’s ways. True, he was overblunt sometimes and a more than a bit reckless, but… Itachi was so used to subterfuge and slyness that he found Kisame’s brusque manner almost refreshing.

They began walking. “It’s said that talking to yourself is a sign of insanity,” Kisame mused.

“Before or after massacring innocents?” he quipped back.

Kisame tried to appear shocked. “Why, Itachi… was that a joke?”

He quirked an eyebrow. Was it? “No,” he decided. Not funny at all.

Minutes passed between them, the only sound their footsteps upon the grass and the miniature bells in their hats. Why the bells? Itachi wondered. Why the hats at all? It seemed a little paradoxical that the Akatsuki robe was so iconic that it seemed to announce them, and yet they also wore face-concealing hats to hide their identities. And the bells? A gentle musical note to begin the orchestra of death? Itachi couldn’t decide if that was meant to be offensive or poetic.

He liked the hat, though. It kept the sun off of his face, and it kept the space around his face warm during the shivering winds. Furthermore, whenever he was around people, he felt exposed. He could be hundreds of miles away from the Leaf Village with no chance at all that anyone might recognize him, and he’d still feel vulnerable. His skin crawled with the certainty that every sin was tattooed in stark ink across his pale face. Whenever possible, they avoided civilizations altogether, but sometimes their purpose prevented that.

“Why, exactly, are we doing this again?” Kisame asked yet again.

Itachi quashed his annoyance. Kisame kept asking the same question because he had yet to receive a legitimate answer. Nonetheless, Itachi gave the only answer he had. “It’s not for us to know, not yet.” His irritation subsided quickly. It was understandable for Kisame to be impatient, given his nature. The task Leader had set them on was both monotonous and seemingly pointless. Setting a ninja on a blind “wait and watch” mission was like asking a tiger to babysit a bean sprout. One had the sense that it was as ridiculous as it was offensive. Their talents were going to waste. Itachi was certain that the two of them—perhaps all of them—had been sent away for a reason. Perhaps Leader was concerned that their self-interested agendas would interfere with his plans.

Itachi was particularly aggrieved, though, that this wait and watch mission had sent them hundreds of miles away from Hanabi, after he had promised to visit her. No way was he going to make it back to the Leaf Village by the end of summer. Instead, he had sent one of his special Ravens to watch over her. By now, his smart ninjaling would have realized that the bird wasn’t ordinary. Perhaps some day she could forgive him for not going to her. 

And if anyone tried to hurt her…

Well, he figured it was unlikely that most would-be assailants were capable of harming her; she was wily and determined. But the rest would answer to him, and he wasn’t likely to be very forgiving.

_Take care of yourself, little sister._

_..._

_You too, foolish little brother._


	18. Breathing Glass

Timeline=6 years post massacre

* * *

 

Walking, walking, endless walking. Kisame wished that anyone had told him that Akatsuki was going to be more about walking the long way from point A to point B and less about killing people that needed to be killed. He had thought, when he signed on, that there would be more action. A ninja’s body needed to stay honed and ready for killing, and the nonsensical eternity of walking made them sluggish. Sometimes, he picked fights with Itachi just to stretch his muscles. It was okay, though… he got the sense that Itachi knew that that was exactly what he was hoping for when he picked the fights, and played along. Kisame supposed that if Itachi did not think he was picking fights for the sake of exercise, he might already be a dead man.

As he too-often did while he was walking for hours on end, Kisame’s thoughts drifted to his sister, Kitari. He hoped that she was doing all right. He did sometimes regret that he had killed Kitari’s lover. If he could go back and make that decision again, knowing what it would cost him, though… would he? He didn’t have an answer for that. So much should have gone differently, and there really wasn’t any point in thinking too deeply on the matter.

Idly, he wondered about Suigetsu and Mangetsu, as well. Before he’d left the Village Hidden in the Mist, he’d spent a considerable amount of time with the two. Someday, both of them would be powerful Shinobi. Perhaps even both of them would someday join him as one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist.

He was running out of things to think about. Again. It didn’t really help matters that he really wasn’t a deep thinker to begin with. He much preferred conversation and fighting. “Itachi,” he began, hoping that his partner was in one of those rare moods where he might actually talk back. Much of the time, Kisame talked to Itachi, and Itachi did not talk back. That was fine. At least he’d get to hear himself talk and know that the other man was listening. “When we get to the next town or village, I was thinking we might stock up on rations. Besides, I have a little extra money from our last allowance—“ he scoffed at the word; As part of Akatsuki, they were given a certain percentage of whatever moneys Kakuzu and Hidan managed to scrounge up for them, and for some reason this month’s allowance had been particularly bountiful. He just wasn’t too keen on the idea that someone else controlled his money. “I think I might pick up a nice bottle of whiskey,” he finished.

Most Shinobi drank sake or plum sake. It was a favorite of most of the people in these regions. However, Kisame had been introduced to whiskey just after he’d left the Mist Village, and he much preferred the way that it burned its way down his throat. Itachi, to his knowledge, never drank, but it might be fun to see what would happen if he did.

Itachi didn’t respond. That wasn’t unexpected. Itachi seldom responded to his ramblings. “Might try to get you drunk and have my way with you,” he continued crassly, trying to get a rise out of him. Actually, since he’d had that thought, he wondered for a moment at Itachi’s sexuality. They’d been paired up for several years now, and Kisame had never seen his companion with anyone, man or woman, nor heard any stories. He smiled to himself, trying to picture his quiet, expressionless partner with anyone at all. “You’d probably like that too much, wouldn’t you?” No answer. He grinned at his own joke, then stopped and whirled around with his best—most ferocious—smile on his face. “Okay, you’ve convinced me you handsome devil,” he leered. He blinked. Itachi wasn’t standing there.

He peered off in the distance, wondering if Itachi had merely stopped. About a hundred yards back, a dark lump with red spots shivered on the ground. “Itachi?” he said to himself with disbelief. What was going on? He dropped his sword—it was heavy, and his mother had taught him never to run with swords unless you were hoping to kill something—and sprinted to the dark shape in the grass. The labored, grating sounds of coughing greeted his ears before he even got close. When he reached Itachi’s side, the sight put a pit in his stomach.

Itachi was shaking and coughing, hugging himself tight with his right arm and his eyes closed. Blood was spattered all around him and dotted his face like bright freckles, and he coughed into his other hand. There should not be this much blood unless he was wounded, Kisame thought to himself as he knelt next to him.

Kisame had not had anyone that needed his help in more than a decade. Once, long ago, Kitari had contracted pneumonia. Most Mist children developed immunity to it over the years, but not all of them. The wet climate and damp chill were perfect conditions for breeding pneumonia. Kitari had been so sick she had nearly died, and it had fallen on him to make sure she pulled through. Seeing his partner doubled over in the grass coughing his lungs and wheezing out sent Kisame into caretaker mode, as if all his years with Akatsuki and all the people he had killed were vanished in an instant.

“Breathe slowly,” he ordered quietly. “Don’t gasp for air. I know it’s hard, just breathe slowly.” He moved the younger man, pushing him over onto his knees so that anything he might cough up would go out and not back in. Then, he jabbed Itachi’s shoulders, trying to help knock the blockage free. Kisame draped his cloak over Itachi’s shoulders, knowing that the warmth would help. The coughing continued, but in between bouts, Kisame could hear Itachi’s breathing steady with the slower count. He was listening, and trying.

Itachi’s eyes fluttered open, but he avoided eye contact with his partner. His eyes were activated, Kisame noted, but they weren’t attacking him. That was good. The black shape that changed with Itachi’s intentions whirled and twisted, as if undecided what it wanted to be. Kisame swallowed a lump in his throat. If whatever sickness Itachi had garnered affected his eyes, it could mean lots of things. Either Itachi had caught ill and it was damaging his eyes, or using his eyes had made him ill. Neither scenario boded well for Itachi and his precious Sharingan.

Which meant Itachi might not be as dangerous as he had been in the past. Kisame’s thoughts swirled. What should he do? If he told Leader that Itachi was out of commission, it was possible that the Akatsuki would have have the Uchiha put down, either because his powers might be spiraling out of his control, or his usefulness was ended and the information he knew a danger to them. Kisame wasn’t a fool enough to believe that Itachi merely had a cold or something that would pass; men didn’t cough up a tenth of their blood supply for a winter chill.

Kisame rubbed and thumped on Itachi’s back, still trying to help his breathing stabilize, but his eyes were locked on the grass. More specifically, the blood that was on the grass. _Shit_ , he thought,  _Itachi’s toast._

Finally, the coughing stopped. Itachi breathed slowly, though the air that filled and escaped his lungs sounded like a death rattle. Finally, Itachi took one deep breath and released it. “Thank you,” he said awkwardly. Comfortable with each other they might be, but Itachi had never needed Kisame’s help before.

“Hey, don’t mention it,” he offered, equally as uncomfortable. It troubled him that he cared this much. Ever since his final years with the Mist Village, he had vowed never to get too close to anyone again. It was easier to fight and kill when no one would miss your sorry ass. A man with nothing to live for was a dangerous man. What was it about Itachi that made him want to live just a little longer? “I mean, really, don’t. I don’t want anyone thinking I give a damn about you or anyone else, okay?”

“I understand,” he said, struggling to his feet. “It never happened. I’m fine.” He shed Kisame’s cloak and handed it back to him, then began walking in the direction they were headed before.

Irritation at Itachi’s nonchalance changed his mind. “No,” Kisame said to him. “We’re not going anywhere tonight. Sit your ass down.”

Itachi glanced over his shoulder, for once speaking with his facial expressions. _Please don’t do this._

Kisame was having none of it. “I. Said. Sit. DOWN,” he repeated, eyes narrowed and sharpened teeth bared.

Itachi’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Kisame had never dared give him an order before. It was more or less accepted that Itachi was the leader of their little outfit, and Kisame was just the muscle. Despite that, much to both of their surprise, Itachi lowered himself to the ground and sat. He watched Kisame with interest, as if waiting to see what he did next.

Time for some general health maintenance, Kisame decided. He handed Itachi his water bottle. Itachi drank, never taking his red-eyed stare off his partner. Then, silently, Kisame built a fire up right there in the middle of the field. It wasn’t even dark yet. On a normal day they’d have kept traveling for at least another three hours before making camp, and might have stopped somewhere more concealed.

Itachi wasn’t sure what to think. On a soul-deep level, he was grateful that Kisame had known what to do, and had likely saved his life a moment ago. On the other, Kisame didn’t seem to care about anyone or anything. They might both consider each other more or less a friend, but he had thought that was more a mechanism of survival than anything. At the end of the day, they’d be willing to kill each other for a purpose. Wouldn’t they? “We can’t camp here,” he told the man.

“Hell we can’t,” Kisame grumbled back, settling in across the fire from him.

“It’s too open,” he complained. “We should get back to the treeline.”

Kisame shot him a flat stare. “When was the last time we saw anyone in this deserted wasteland?” he asked him honestly. Itachi didn’t answer. “One night in the open won’t kill us, and anyway, you’re already dying.”

“I’m not,” he insisted. He was, though. Somehow, he just knew.

“You are. It looks like someone stabbed you in the carotid back there. If anyone was searching for us they could track your blood trail anyway. How long have you had that cough?” It was a rhetorical question. They both knew that it was an old illness that came and went. Kisame hadn’t thought it was his place to say anything about it, and Itachi didn’t want to call any attention upon himself, so he’d been suffering it in silence. “Yeah,” Kisame muttered, “that’s what I thought. So we’re going to camp in the open, we’re going to camp early, and we’re not going to pretend you’re not dying. Got it?”

Itachi glared at him across the fire, but he didn’t feel like arguing. “I’m dying,” he admitted instead.

Kisame nodded slowly at the admission. Hearing it didn’t make him feel any better about being correct. “I think it’s your eyes,” he told Itachi. “When you were coughing the tomoe acted like they couldn’t decide what to be. You might want to give them a rest.”

Itachi shook his head. “I…can’t.” He hadn’t wanted to say that.

Kisame raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean can’t? I’ve seen you turn them off before. Shut the damned things off for a while. You don’t actually need them unless we’re fighting someone anyway. I’m not going to kill you.” Up until this point, that had always been a spoken possibility. They’d never wanted the other to think that they were weak or had a weakness. Kisame had never made it seem like he wouldn’t kill Itachi if given the chance. Admitting that he wouldn’t was risky.

He lowered his voice, barely audible. There was no reason to hide it anymore. Kisame had seen him cough his guts out already. “It’s like I can’t see at all without them. Without the Sharingan, the world is dark.”

It was his turn to glare. “You didn’t think that might be something worth mentioning?”

“I’m sorry,” Itachi said in a small voice, avoiding eye contact.

Kisame said nothing. Instead, he dug through their rations and dragged out some hard bread. He threw half of it toward Itachi. It fell in his lap. As they nibbled on their bread, Kisame devised a plan. “Nothing to be done about it now,” he mumbled, both for himself and Itachi. “You’re dying. You need a doctor. Tomorrow, I’ll go get you some.”

By “I’ll go get you some,” apparently Kisame meant exactly that. Itachi had no idea how he had done it, but in the space of a day—in which Itachi spent concealed in the treeline, like he much preferred—Kisame had located a half a dozen doctors. He’d rooted out every hedge witch, trained surgeon, and pharmacist in the area, threatened them with bodily harm, killed hostages, and brandished a really big sword until they agreed to grab their supplies and see him. Itachi hid their Akatsuki cloaks to help conceal their identities.

Kisame presented the doctors to Itachi. They looked at both him and the man who had threatened them to get them here with disgust. Itachi merely watched them, impassively, his hands intertwined around one knee. Either they would help, or they wouldn’t. It couldn’t get much worse. They gathered around him in a knot, murmuring to each other in a technical language he could not understand. They questioned him about his eyes, poked him with needles, and put their hands all over him. By the end of it all, he felt violated and uncomfortable, and still as sick as he had been. Being sick was a shameful experience. Part of him just wished that he would die and get it over with.

But then he’d look up at Kisame’s face, and that line of thought stopped in its tracks. Kisame really was worried about him, he saw. As soon as they made eye contact, though, the fearsome-looking man’s facial expression slackened and returned to normal. Itachi had seen it, though, and so he endured the doctors, their questions, and their invasions of privacy.

At the end of the experience, he was left with as many prescriptions as there had been doctors. He had no idea if any of their medicines would kill him or make him well, but there really wasn’t a whole lot to lose. He popped the top off of one bottle of liquid medicine, and drank according to the instructions he’d been given.

All that was left to do now was wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not very fun writing Itachi at a weak moment. I don’t like seeing him sick. Nonetheless, I think this was an important chapter to have (and, in fact, it was an added chapter during the editing process). 
> 
> It’s also nice to show a more human side of Kisame, who in the anime/manga doesn’t get a whole lot of screen time despite his important role. I had a good time writing Kisame, and I think I did fairly well.


	19. Dark Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: 7 years 7 months post-massacre

“CAW!” the Raven shrieked as if from everywhere and nowhere at once.

A soft feminine gasp of surprise told Hanabi that she’d gauged the kunoichi’s response correctly. It wasn’t easy for her to be caught off-guard by fellow ninja, but other tactics might unbalance her. Hanabi rushed in, low to the ground, but the other woman was ready for her. She gripped her weapons and made to throw them, but then… 

The blur of black hurtled past the other’s head, raking at her face with its talons. She screamed in pain and did what any person would do in such a situation: she put both arms over her face and began slashing wildly, hoping to deter the Raven.

Hanabi smiled, knowing she had won. Having never slowed her approach, she was on the other girl in seconds, landing Gentle Fisted blows on both of her knees, forcing her to the ground. One elbow strike to the back of the head and it was all over. As the other woman’s form toppled over, defeated, she grinned with pleasure. “Great work, Inu!” she praised her friend as he alighted on her shoulder.

A soft clapping sounded behind her, and she whirled with annoyance and mild surprise to see Tenten standing there, unharmed, her attire perfectly pristine. “Substitution, obviously,” she said affectionately, “but if it were really me, I’d have been toast.”

Hanabi glanced at the ground, knowing she’d see some sort of misshapen log lying there, and not Tenten. She did it anyway. Seriously, though, where did all the perfectly sized logs come from for these substitution jutsus anyway? She tamped down her irritation. Although she used shadow clones herself and saw their usefulness, Hanabi felt that substitutions and clones were cowardly. She sighed and turned back to her friend.

Tenten smiled warmly at her. “You’re definitely Neji’s cousin,” she stated. “Always thinking, always calm.”

“You give her too much credit, Tenten,” Neji said coolly from further behind her. “She may be always thinking, but she is rarely calm.”

She gritted her teeth at the criticism, but Neji was, as usual, correct. A year or two ago, she’d never give him the satisfaction of telling him so, but the roles of Hyuuga family members was in constant evolution these days. Neji was shouldering more family responsibilities, and one of them including training his impetuous younger cousin. As they’d both quickly learned, her skills were advanced and merely needed exercise. Her attitude was another matter entirely.

The problem was that she was constantly thinking, about everything except the battle at hand. Inu, her raven, was a constant reminder of the brother she hadn’t seen in three years. Hinata was blooming into the woman she was always meant to be, her confidence radiating silently from a secret warm spot deep within her heart, inspired by a young man who would be Hokage. Her distance from her father was narrowing again as Hiashi struggled to make peace within his family at long last. And, finally, Hanabi was finding her place in the world, becoming an assistant in the intel division, making friends, and spending time with her sister. Her life was like one big distraction; so much was happening at any given time that she was impatient to be on to the next task.

Hanabi was still technically a genin, but unofficially she was a bit more. Something was going on in the Leaf Village. Other genin had also noticed that there was an air of seriousness about the adults. Whenever anyone actually spent any time training the younger generation, it was as if their hearts weren’t really in it. Their thoughts were elsewhere. For genin like her, that mattered little and less. Training continued for her whether someone felt the need to drill her in shuriken practice or not. Tenten was helping her with her weapons mastery and Neji was disciplining her mind, and in her own time she honed her chakra control like a favored blade.

“Don’t mind Neji,” Tenten assured her. “He has always been one to see the dark side instead of the bright side.” She elbowed him to prove her point. “Lighten up, would you?” Tenten had been a welcome constant in Hanabi’s life. Her weapons mastery was unrivaled in the Village, and she had been overjoyed to be asked to share it with someone, especially Neji’s little cousin. When they’d started working together, they’d liked each other very much and become fast friends. Plus, she was Hinata’s age and Neji’s teammate. Tenten was practically family by this point.

Neji didn’t even bother to glare at her. He saved all of that for Hanabi. “Your aloofness will get you killed. Whatever it is you keep thinking about when you should be focused, forget it.” It sounded harsh on her ears. Neji lacked the subtlety most teachers tried to use with their students.

Hanabi frowned. “I can’t. I’ve tried, but it’s like I can’t turn my brain off.” Her thoughts kept her awake at night. She was going through a phase where she questioned everything and everyone. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

Tenten’s eyebrows turned up with concern, but Neji’s flat stare hardened even further. “Even if it’s hard, you must. Ninjas lead hard lives. You could be called to a battlefield at any time as a genin.”

“Let’s hope not,” Tenten grumbled for Hanabi’s benefit. “I don’t want to lose any friends.”

“You won’t, Tenten,” Hanabi assured her. “I’ll keep practicing. We’ll all be stronger, and then nothing bad will happen.”

His expression was serious. “We’ll all lose friends someday. Anyone can be killed. Wishes and hopes won’t keep you alive,” Neji said coldly, “but a cool head and quick wits will.”

“And a sharp blade,” Hanabi added dramatically, brandishing her knife for effect.

Neji’s lips twitched, and she knew she had him. Her frosty cousin was changing, too. “Yes,” he agreed, the warmth back in his voice. “A sharp blade will help very much.” He paused. “We’re done for the day. I have work to do. Other work.” He turned away and left them.

“Want to go get something to eat?” Tenten asked her when he had gone.

“Thanks, Tenten, but Hinata and I have plans today.” She hugged her friend and gifted her a quick smile.

“Okay, itty bitty pretty one,” Tenten said to her. As Hanabi jogged away, she hollered at her to “Stay on your toes!”

As she always did when Tenten said that to her, Hanabi whirled rapidly in a graceful axle on the selfsame toes, trailing shimmering wisps of chakra in her wake. Tenten’s chuckle was the prize.

She met Hinata in their mother’s garden. There were multiple reasons for that. Hanabi was ten years old, and Hinata was nearly fifteen. It had taken them hours of introspection and years of the loss of their mother to understand the significance of the first person who ever truly believed in them. For that reason, there was power in this garden. It made the two of them feel as if being here showed their mother that they were taking care of each other. They hoped that their mother could see them and know that they were strong and well.

Another reason that they met here was because the garden had a sobering effect on them both. In the presence of Hanako and all that she held dear, they were reminded that they, too, had goals in mind. Hanabi suspected that Hinata wished to be strong, and to be with Naruto, among other things. Hanabi dreamed of the day that her family could be together. All of them.

The last reason was that the garden belonged to the two of them. Hinata had taken over caring for her mother’s flowers, and no one had argued about it. The garden had quickly become “their” place, and no one ever bothered them in it unless it was very important.

“How was training?” Hinata asked her as they released their hug.

“I won,” Hanabi murmured, “but Neji tore me up for being distracted.”

Hinata glanced at Inu the Raven. He had chased away the songbirds and was ruffling his feathers in the birdbath whilst they yelled at him. He ignored the much smaller birds and quorked with happiness. Hinata frowned with disapproval, her lips set in a thin line. She alone knew the reason that a Raven was named after a dog, but she had not forgiven Itachi his absence. Having never met Hanabi’s “new” older brother, she had not been able to see him through Hanabi’s eyes nor forgive him his crimes. His persona had solidified in Hinata’s thoughts as “that murderer who killed his family and hurt my sister.” There was no changing her mind, though, so Hanabi let the matter lie. “I know there are a lot of things on your mind, Hanabi, but Neji is right.”

Hanabi sighed melodramatically, rolling her eyes. “I know, I know!” she groaned, exasperated. “Neji is _always_ right. I’m working on it!” She flopped over on her back in a bed of tiny carpeted white blossoms.

“I suppose it doesn’t help that it’s your birthday,” Hinata added cheerily. “Happy birthday!” From seemingly nowhere she produced a small square package and proffered it smiling.

Hanabi received the wrapped parcel wordlessly, admiring its neat wrappings. Hinata put tremendous thought and effort into all things she cared about, and this was a stunning nonexception. The edges were lovingly creased and the ribbon was expertly curled. “Thanks, Hinata,” she said as she tore it open. Inside was a blanket that she had crocheted. There, at the very center, was the afghan her mother had crocheted for her nearly a decade ago. Hinata had used it as a base and added to it. It had also been professionally cleaned and shone just as brightly white as the pieces Hinata had added. Though she had gone through great pains to conceal it, the blanket obviously h8earkened to Itachi’s cloak. The colors were black and red like his cloak. Black ravens on red clouds on a white backdrop with a red border. Anyone who had met Itachi would have known it immediately. To everyone else, it was a weird, macabre blanket very unlike Hinata but not unlike Hanabi.

Hinata had taken something special to her and magnified its value thousandfold at least. It was a beautiful gift.

Though she had once been a fountain of happiness and joy, obsession and cynicism had consumed Hanabi. She felt her happiness, knew it was there, but she couldn’t feel true joy knowing that Itachi was out there, alone and hurting. She couldn’t help but wonder at the events surrounding the Uchiha clan massacre, couldn’t help wondering what would make him feel the need to do that. It had become her purpose to get at the truth, restore peace, and bring her family back together.

She wanted her brother back, and she didn’t care what it would take to retrieve him.

A lot had happened since Itachi had no-showed on her two years ago. The Hokage had been killed, and the chunin exams had been interrupted. It had been some grand design planned by someone named Orochimaru, who used to be part of the organization Itachi had joined. Hanabi wondered if her brother had known him? Shortly after that, Sasuke—whom she supposed was more or less her brother by extension—had left the Village and joined up with Orochimaru. If she hadn’t been so focused on retrieving Itachi first, she might have cared. Sasuke had chosen to leave, though. Itachi had not. Not long after that, Naruto had left the Village, too, but for training. Hinata had withdrawn a little bit at that. She’d been determined to train hard, too, to impress him when he returned.

For that, Hanabi was thrilled. All of the Hyuugas were changing in their own ways. Hiashi was spending more time with both of his daughters, and had given Neji more privileges and responsibilities within the family, a luxury no branch member had ever experienced. Neji was warming up, a little. No longer cold and bitter, he seemed to actually appreciate his cousins more. Despite his strict instruction, he was actually a pretty good teacher, too. Hinata had seemingly realized she was beautiful. She had lost the saggy jacket and was even growing her hair out, just as Hanabi had suggested once upon a time. And Hanabi herself was more introspective, impatient, and strong.

And so, Hanabi had begged Inoichi to let her be his assistant at Hinata’s suggestion. It had taken a very long time to be accepted. The intelligence division was distrustful by nature. They figured that the fledgling ninja had some sort of hidden agenda for wanting to be a part of the secretive sector of Konoha, and they were correct. Inoichi tested her on this. He allowed her to work for him, but if she wanted to learn anything more advanced, she’d need to submit her thoughts for perusing to see why she wanted to be part of the Intel. Hanabi wasn’t ready to let anyone know that, and so she contented herself with cleaning the offices and fetching them lunch.

So, she hadn’t learned a whole lot. She had no idea where Itachi was or why he’d killed his family. But, she was well liked at work. Inoichi praised her attentiveness, and Ibiki frowned at her less disapprovingly than he did at others. Perhaps eventually she’d catch a break. Hanabi had tried to take Itachi’s lessons seriously, especially the one he’d taught her about games and players, and wanting people to think what you wanted them to think while staying in complete control.

She unfolded the blanket and yanked it tight around her head and shoulders, suddenly overcome but how complicated her life had become. “I love it, Hinata. Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Hinata squeezed her little sister. “I know you know I’m not his biggest fan, Hanabi, but I can see how much he means to you. You’ll find him. You’re too determined not to.”

Hanabi smiled, genuinely. “I will. Thanks. For everything, Hinata.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon ignoring the fact that Hanabi was another year older. Sometimes, it was best to never grow up. They played hide and seek in the garden, threw wishes into the koi pond, and made pictures with the small stones they found. By the time the sun had sunk below the horizon, both were exhausted and ready for bed.

“Sweet birthday dreams!” Hinata told her sister as she tucked her in. “And remember, you might be ten years old now, but you’ll always be my baby sister.”

“And you might be nearly fifteen and in love,” Hanabi told her, “but you’ll always be the most important person in the world to me.”

“You’re such a sweetheart,” Hinata said to her, kissing her forehead. “If you ever need me to help you find your brother, let me know, okay?”

“I will. Goodnight, Hinata.”

“Goodnight, Hanabi.”

Exhausted as she was, she could not sleep. It seemed funny to her that the more tired she was, the harder it was to fall asleep at the end of a night, even if she had been yawning all day. She tossed and turned fitfully, her brain whirring, swimming with thoughts on how to proceed.

What was Itachi doing now? Was he alright? Was Sasuke out there, looking for him? Had he found his older brother? Did they fight? Was one of them dead? Or both? How was she supposed to find that out? Should she run away? Should she dig through the Intel Division? Should she talk to Inoichi, and tell him what was on her mind? Had she been wrong about Itachi, this whole time? Should she just give up and move on? What was going on with the Leaf Village? Was there a war coming? Would she be losing friends and family soon? Would she be killed? Was she strong enough to protect Hinata now? Or Neji and Tenten?

The questions were never ending. The possibilities were numberless, playing over and over in her head. For instance, if she did leave the village to find Itachi, what would her family think, say and do? Were the answers to Itachi’s past going to prove he was a liar, and if so, what did that mean for her? Would she need to hunt him down and kill him? _Could_ she?

It was on that train of thought the Inu landed on her chest, his claws digging painfully into her tender skin. “Caw,” her bird told her, his red sharingan eyes boring deep into her own. It never failed to amaze her that no one had noticed the tomoe in his eyes before.

“What is it, Inu?” she asked the Raven, as if it could answer her with anything other than its usual caw.

“Caw!” it responded predictably. He flapped over to the windowsill and ruffled his feathers. Then, he toyed with the latch, undid it, and pushed the window open. It was something he had never done in their two years together, and it made her wonder idly if he’d known how to do that the whole time. “CAW!” he proclaimed loudly as he leapt into the night, the blackness swallowing him in an instant.

“Inu!” she whispered loudly, irritated that he’d escaped. It took only a moment for it to sink in that he had meant for her to follow him. Sighing, defeated, she clambered out of bed and dressed. Apparently she would not be sleeping tonight. Again.

As soon as she was outside her window, Inu landed on the ground in front of her. He hobbled and quorked as he began to lead her away. “You stupid bird,” she admonished fondly as they neared her crack in the wall. “Why don’t you just fly?”

“Why don’t you?” a quiet, masculine, and all-too-familiar voice asked her silkily from behind the wall.

Her eyes widened as they locked onto his red ones, glinting from the moonlight on the other side. She practically dove through the tiny hole, which had gotten much harder to do with her larger size. “Itachi!” she screeched as she flew into his arms. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you last!”

“CAW!” Inu complained from the other side of the wall, hopping from foot to foot as if expecting a reward.

Itachi squeezed the little girl tightly, breathing in the scent wafting from her hair. Oh, how he had missed her! His gaze fell on the forgotten Raven, and he smiled. “Thanks, my friend, for watching over her.” He dismissed the bird, and it popped out of existence.

Hanabi gasped. “Inu!” she mourned.

Itachi chuckled. “Now you have a raven named dog? Will wonders never cease!” He held her out at arm’s length. “I’ve missed you, little sister.”

“I’ve missed you, too!” she said excitedly, feeling all of six years old all over again. “Tell me everything!” 

Pain washed over his expression, and Hanabi immediately regretted asking. “I can’t tell you everything, little one. I prefer to be happy when I am with you.”

“There’s too much to catch up on for all of it to be happy,” Hanabi chided him, “but it can wait, I suppose.”

Itachi smiled at her. “My, how your tone has changed. You’re so grown up now. Did my little sister become a ninja yet?” He poked her nose, then suddenly wondered why he did it.

She scrunched up her face, just like Sasuke had, but ignored it. “Yes! I became a genin last fall, at age nine!” Her pride shone up from her face like moonbeams, and he squeezed her tight again.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured. “I was hoping you’d already become a genin. I have a birthday present for you.”

Her eyes widened, then her face cracked open in a wide grin. “You brought me a present?!”

“Not exactly,” he admitted. “We have to go get it.” He poked her again, jarring his soul with nostalgia. He realized then why he had done it in the first place. It was much the same as it had been with Sasuke when he’d been overcome by amusement at the way children could be. He teased his little brother, and then he poked him in the forehead. Sasuke had always hated it, but the little display of anger had only made Itachi do it more often. It was so adorable!

Hanabi huffed with annoyance and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like it when you do that!” she exclaimed.

“Then I won’t,” he lied. Then, he scooped her up onto his shoulders. “Hold on, okay?” He didn’t wait for her consent before he began rushing through the forest.

The Uchiha grounds were not far from the Hyuuga residence. It was also long abandoned, so he didn’t have to worry about being disturbed or captured. At least, it was mostly abandoned. There were still residents on the grounds; residents who had been there long before the Uchiha, and had no intention of leaving just because someone made a mess. He smiled with genuine pleasure. It would be nice to see them again after all these years.

He slowed to a walk when he passed through the Uchiha gate, already overwhelmed by the memories of nightmares and real events that felt like nightmares. It didn’t help that it was dark. If Hanabi hadn’t been with him, he might have fled and never returned.

Hanabi had noticed though. “This was your home, wasn’t it?” she asked quietly. “That’s why your shoulders tensed up. You don’t want to be here, do you?”

Itachi took a deep breath and shifted her weight on his back. “You’re so perceptive,” he said almost to himself. “Yes, this was my home,” he replied, his voice tight with emotions barely restrained. “No, I don’t want to be here. Not really.”

“We don’t have to come here,” she assured him. “I don’t mind.”

“I appreciate it,” he told her, “but we’re not here to show you my home.” He smiled, putting his negative memories to rest. “We’re here to see someone else’s.”

Her curiosity was piqued. “Whose?”

“You’ll see.” He couldn’t wait to see how she would react, either.

Just on the edge of the community they stopped in front of a nondescript, unlabeled wooden shack. Hidden in plain sight, this was the place that many an Uchiha had come to restock weapons stores. He pushed open the door. Inside it was almost completely dark, lit only by a tallow candle. The smell of cat was thick in the air. Most people would probably wrinkle their noses and retreat, but to Itachi, the scent was welcoming and soothing. “Itachi Uchiha,” a gravelly old voice called from within. “It’s been far too many years. You’re in trouble, young man.”


	20. Cats Fly Free

Timeline: 7 years 7 months post-massacre

* * *

 

“You’re in trouble, young man.”

It was a statement that meant two things, he knew. Granny Cat had always been a good friend to his family, and had had a particular fondness for him and his brother. However, she had surely heard about his crime, and he’d never been back since that day. “Yes,” he answered honestly. “I humbly apologize to you and all of yours. It could not be helped.”

The old lady lit a few more lamps but said nothing, merely gesturing that they should sit. “Nekomata forwarded your request.” She paused. “I had considered not granting it.” Her voice was so menacing that Hanabi shrunk behind Itachi’s shoulders.

Itachi cringed, knowing how presumptuous of a request it really was. “Have you decided to grant it, then?”

The old lady turned her beady, piercing gaze toward Hanabi. “Come forward, child,” she beckoned, completely ignoring Itachi’s question.

Itachi bent, and Hanabi dismounted from his back. She crept forward hesitantly, unsure of what was going on. Itachi had said that this had something to do with her birthday present, though, right? Deciding to trust him, she stood straighter, and met the old woman’s eyes. She swallowed as that brazen stare pierced her own. She felt naked.

“This is the one they say you call ‘sister,’” she murmured. It was not quite a question, but Itachi confirmed. “Your brother denounces you as a traitor and vows to seek your death, and you instead adopt another sibling.” The tone was accusatory, but then she surprised them both by laughing loudly. Hanabi flinched from the sound and shrank back towards Itachi, unsure of what to do. Granny Cat rushed forward and embraced Itachi, who stood there dumbfounded and allowed himself to be hugged. “Welcome home, Itachi,” she said warmly. She inclined her head toward Hanabi, who was equally confused. “And welcome to you, young Hanabi.”

With that, the walls poured out cats. Hundreds upon hundreds of cats, purring, mewling, and yowling. They surrounded Itachi and Hanabi and rubbed up against them both. “They missed you,” Granny Cat told him. “They’ve been waiting for you to come back ever since they heard about the massacre. We know you did it,” she added with a sniff, “we just don’t believe you’re guilty.” There was a distinct difference between the two.

Itachi’s eyes widened, and he sank to his knees. The cats fawned all over him. Choruses of meows and questions rang up to the rafters. Itachi rubbed hands over ears and under chins and relaxed. Before long he was all smiles and had toppled over on his back, lost among a sea of cats to Hanabi's eyes.

Granny Cat endured it for a short while, her expression pleased with the turn of events. Itachi’s return was apparently a long-anticipated event. The thought made Hanabi smile, for she knew just how much Itachi needed the attention. Several minutes later, though, Granny Cat’s curiosity got the best of her. “Enough!” she hollered, stopping them all. Watching so many glowing feline eyes freeze at once, not even blinking, was a comical picture. “Itachi, tell us everything. Tell her everything, too.” She jabbed a thumb in Hanabi’s direction, meaning her. Hanabi wondered how the old lady knew that she was still in the dark on the matter. Perhaps she merely assumed that she didn’t know because she had not abandoned Itachi.

Hanabi turned toward her brother, waiting. She had wanted to know this all along. Despite her doubts, she did believe Itachi would not lie to her. Or them, she added as an afterthought. The hundreds of expectant cat faces surrounding them begged for truth. “Tell us, Itachi,” they mewled. “Tell us what happened to our friends.” From the way that everyone was acting, Hanabi surmised that the ninja cats had been fairly close to the Uchiha as a clan.

Itachi’s eyes rolled over to her, and Hanabi understood that he really didn’t want her to know. She didn’t move, didn’t speak. He would tell her or he wouldn’t, but she would find out one way or another. Something he saw in her convinced him. He took a deep breath and began. “My family…my clan,” he started quietly, “were planning to kill the Hokage and take over the village.” There were mumbles of agreement, angry murmurs, and gasps of surprise. Some of them had suspected, and that made it all very real to the young Hyuuga. _Itachi spoke the truth_. She listened with rapt attention. “I was an ANBU captain, and Father meant to use me to spy on the village. I decided, though, that to keep the peace, the village needed to know, and I told the Hokage. Danzo convinced the elders to use my position within the family to spy on my family instead. I fed the Uchiha lies and half truths about the village, and I gave the village everything.”

Hanabi felt numb hearing this for the first time. It had never truly occurred to her that so much corruption could exist in the village of her home. Itachi continued, “Eventually, it became clear that the Uchiha meant to do violence, and I was called to act. As long as the clan existed, there would be strife between the Senju and the Uchiha, a feud that’s older than the village itself. It was decided that the Uchiha needed to be eliminated. All of them.”

Cried of outrage howled through the crowded little shack. “But the children! Not all of the Uchiha were bad! What about your brother?!”

Itachi heard them, and explained. “I was approached and told that Sasuke could live if I, personally, killed the rest and left the village a traitor, never to return.”

“You killed your family to save your little brother,” responded a deep, booming voice from deep within. A curtain designed to look like a wall fell, revealing an enormous black tiger with red stripes.

All of the cats immediately sank to their bellies and fell silent. Much to Hanabi’s surprise, so did Itachi. And Granny Cat. Itachi waved impatiently for her to do the same thing, so she did. Who was this?

The tiger strode gracefully up to her and towered over her tiny frame. “Hanabi Hyuuga. When Nekomata forwarded the request to me, I had to meet you for myself.”

“Who are you?” she asked. And what _was_ this request about? The entire room gasped collectively, and she got the distinct impression that she was being rude.

The tiger chuckled. “My subjects don’t seem to appreciate your directness, but I am a ninja cat, and I like people who do not tiptoe around the obvious. Who am I?” He postured grandly and roared, a sound to split eardrums. It sent a thrill through Hanabi’s veins, but around her the cats shivered with fear and respect. “I am Nekokira, the Patriarch of the Ninja Cats. Itachi must not have told you.” He turned his lovely golden eyes to her brother.

Itachi recognized that he had been summoned and stood. “I had not thought to see you here, Nekokira,” he admitted sheepishly. “It’s not every day one sees the Patriarch.” He turned to Hanabi. “As you might guess, Nekokira is a king, of sorts, among the ninja cats. He doesn’t walk among the humans often. I’ve only ever met him once, and I think he nearly ate me.”

Nekokira laughed again. For one so scary, Hanabi was intrigued by how hilarious everything must seem to him, for he often seemed to be laughing. “I did, I did,” he growled. “But this request of yours concerns me, specifically, and I had to meet this girl for myself before it could be granted.” His eyes twinkled as they swung back in her direction, and she got the impression that she was being judged.

Hanabi had had enough. All this talk of a request was driving her curiosity wild. “What request are you talking about?”

Itachi grinned. “I said we were coming here for your birthday present, and I meant it.” He glanced back toward Nekokira. “Is your presence here a yes, then?” he asked hopefully.

Nekokira’s eyes bored into Hanabi’s, much like Granny Cat’s had. He weighed her for much longer. Hanabi felt as if her thoughts were being sifted, and perhaps they were. She had never met a ninja cat and had no knowledge of their abilities. Finally, after what could have been an eternity and a half, he nodded. “It is. The girl comes with me. Everyone else stays here.”

Itachi looked as if he wanted to protest, but one does not simply refute the Patriarch of Ninja Cats. Crestfallen, he waved her on. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “You’ll be safe, and I’ll be here when you return.” It pained Hanabi to see Itachi disappointed, but she could not refuse the huge cat either. Nekokira leaned down and indicated that she should climb onto his back, so she did. Her seat was softer than she would have guessed, contoured perfectly for sitting. She didn’t even feel as if she was in danger of falling off.

She nearly did fall off, however, when a loud poof sounded and she was suddenly in a land of enormously tall grasses and butterflies. “This is my home,” the tiger purred. “Please do not be afraid. The cats are skittish, but loyal. I’ve given them no reason to fear me. It is their time with the humans that has taught them to distrust.”

She thought about the groveling cats, and wondered if it was really too much time among people that made them like that. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” she stated. “I’m sorry, but this day has all happened so fast.”

He sidestepped her need for information with his own. “Tell me about Itachi. We have a ways to walk.” He began padding gently across the meadow, swift and graceful.

She sighed at being put off, but tried to be patient and go along with it. “We met when I was lost. He seemed really sad, and I was very little. He was nice to me, and I felt like he needed me. We don’t see each other very often, but he’s like an older brother to me, and he loves me.”

He shook his head, his ears twitching. When he spoke, his voice sounded amused. “Yes, that much is plain. Itachi is brilliant and calculating, but it has been a long time since anyone could call him affectionate. His time as a spy froze him over. He was not allowed to love. We cats know that better than anyone. We were some of his closest friends.”

Not allowed to love? “How do you mean?”

A low growl emanated from the tiger’s throat. “When you are everyone’s enemy, your closest friends and family become targets. The more you love, the more it hurts.”

Her heart ached for him, and tears sprang to her eyes. “That’s terrible!” she squeaked.

“Yes, terrible indeed. Itachi and Sasuke were very important to the ninja cats. Those two brothers and the cats had many adventures. It could only have been better if they’d been born cats themselves.” He laughed, amused at his own comment. “Ever since the massacre, things have been different around here. We’ve missed those two. Itachi’s return means something to the cats. It is the sign that we needed.”

“What about Sasuke?” she asked, genuinely curious. She still had never met Itachi’s little brother. She sometimes wondered if he was quiet and sophisticated like her sister, or if he was more like Itachi. The only thing that she knew for sure was that he must hate Itachi, and that in and of itself made her sad. 

The great black cat fell silent for a moment. “Sasuke is more lost than Itachi ever was,” he snipped out, then refused to speak any more on the matter. “What matters now is that you’ve returned Itachi to us, and for that you will be rewarded.” Suddenly he stopped. “It’s okay,” he purred to no one. “You can come out now.” For a moment, nothing happened, but then the scenery blurred, and she realized they were not alone.

First, a sleek purple cat padded out from the brush. She was gorgeous, with silken fur rippling over lean muscle. She rubbed up to Nekokira and eyed Hanabi up and down. She seemed satisfied, and she stretched out on the ground next to him, her tail twitching and thumping upon the ground. “Nice to meet you, Hanabi,” she purred. “My name is Kawa.”

“Are you the queen of the cats?” Hanabi asked.

The pretty cat giggled. “No, only Nekokira can claim such lofty titles. I am just a cat, and for the time being I am the one he chooses to play with.” She gazed lovingly at the tiger, and Hanabi knew at once what she meant. They loved each other. Perhaps she was the equivalent of his wife. “Oh heavens sake, children. She can see you.”

Hanabi started. She had seen nothing, nothing at all. And yet, three bouncing ninja kittens came hurtling from the brush. Nekokira lay down next to Kawa, and Hanabi slid down his shoulder to the ground, enchanted by the kittens at play. One charged and pounced at her, one came in arced oddly and walking sideways on his toes, and the other somersaulted sideways and swatted at her toe.

“Oh my goodness, they’re adorable!” she shrieked, bounding after them. As if the kittens were ghosts, they avoided her every pounce. They dodged and balked and leapt better than any ninja she had ever seen. She could learn something from these kittens. Slowly, this field trip was beginning to make sense. “This is the best birthday present ever!” she exclaimed. "How long can I stay here with you?"

Kawa and Nekokira laughed heartily. “My darling girl,” Kawa said, “my children are quite striking and fun to watch, but their… demonstrations…are not your gift.”

“No? I thought maybe Itachi wanted me to train with you?” She twirled on the ball of her foot, showing off her rotation, slowing to a stop and bowing like a showman.

“Very impressive,” Nekokira murmured.

“Training is more accurate,” Kawa dodged. “But something a little more drastic is in order." She smiled, eyelids closing slowly with pleasure. "We want you to keep them.” 

She had never thought she’d be one for fainting. She’d seen Hinata do it on innumerable occasion, but she never thought she herself would. It wasn’t until she was licked awake by three sets of rough kitten tongues that she understood that that was exactly what she had done. “You okay?” one of them asked her.

“Yes,” she breathed, trying to calm her already fluttering heart.

“To be fair,” Nekokira boomed from beyond the ring of kitties, “Itachi only asked for you to have one, but these three are special, and we want you to have them all.”

Hanabi eyed each of the kittens much more closely now that they were so near. One was midnight blue with brilliant purple patches that she clearly got from her mother. Her eyes were gold and deep like Nekokira’s. Another was jet black with a deep red spot over one eye. His eyes were also gold like Nekokira’s. The last was pure white with not even a hint of another color anywhere except for his brilliant green eyes, exactly like his mother’s. They gazed at her with adoration, and she immediately loved them. Something primal welled up within her, and her composure went belly up—literally. She squealed with delight and keeled over sideways, screeching, “Oh my goodness… KITTENS!!!”

The kittens themselves were not ones to let a good playtime go to waste. They dove in on top of her, swatting at her hair, chewing on her fingers, and leaping over her prostrate form. “Nyaaa!” they shouted as they leapt and pranced. She couldn’t tell if they were truly training or making mock of ninjas. She supposed that the difference didn’t matter to ninja cats. Playtime was part of learning, after all.

They played fiercely for several minutes. Long before Hanabi was ready to quit, the three abruptly curled up, noses in tails, and passed out. Kawa couldn’t hide her laughter. “They tire quickly when they are young. Do remember that cats typically sleep more than eighteen hours a day. They will play and train themselves, mostly, and don’t require extra hours like you humans do to remain strong. Don’t tire them out needlessly, or they won’t have the strength to protect you.”

“Thank you,” Hanabi said fervently. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She hugged each of them in turn.

“Thank Itachi,” Nekokira insisted. “If anyone else had asked, we might have killed them outright for the offense. No one gets away with our kittens.” His tone was lighthearted, but Hanabi could tell by his expression that he was truly serious.

“I will,” she assured him. “I won’t ever take Itachi for granted.” Not ever again, anyway. She watched the kittens sleep, amazed by how cute they were even then. “What are their names?" 

“Ninja kittens do not receive names until they prove they are worthy of being ninja cats,” Kawa instructed. “They do not have names yet. You will name them.”

“How do I know when they are worthy?” she asked worriedly. She was not a mother cat. She wasn’t even entirely sure she was capable of raising three kittens, let alone kittens that were also ninjas. She was barely a ninja herself!

Kawa looked at her strangely. “You are a ninja, are you not?” Hanabi nodded. “The kittens are yours, and you are a ninja. That makes them ninja, too.”

Hanabi was confused. “But you’re ninja, aren’t you?”

Nekokira answered. “We are, but we are also their parents. It is not for us to decide when they are ready. If you judge them to be unfit for duty, you can return them to us and they will wait.”

“Okay,” she responded shakily. “How do you decide if they are ready if they are not given a ninja? Because you ninja cats are not too keen on humans, generally, right?”

Nekokira grinned at her. “You are a sharp one. I see why Itachi loves you.” He paused a moment to laugh again. “Much like you humans do, we have our own sets of tests to determine if they are ready. It is because you lack the proper testing for cats that we consider them fledged once we pass them along to a suitable ninja. If we did not think you were capable, they would not be leaving with you.”

“Oh,” was all she said. They were expecting her to push them to their limits enough to make them equivalent to their wilder counterparts. She wasn’t entirely sure she was good enough for this. But then she looked at the three as they slept. The white one had stretched a paw out to his sister with the purple spots, as if reassuring himself that she was still there. “I love them already,” she told their parents. “Together we will be even stronger than we are alone.”

The two cats grinned as one. She wondered if they felt happiness that their offspring were moving on in the world, or fear. Perhaps both. What would her father have thought to give her away to the ninja cats? She wasn’t sure, but part of her wished that he had.

“One more thing,” Nekokira added, pulling forth a scroll from somewhere. He unrolled it. It was grand, tooled with gold embossments. The page had some writing on it and several columns, but none of them were filled.

“What is it?” she asked dumbly, entranced by such a thing. She’d never seen anything like it.

Nekokira’s face was solemn now, all traces of his humor gone. “Something I have never given to anyone, not even Itachi. This is our summoning scroll.” He paused for effect, wanting her to weigh his words carefully. “Ninja cats do not like to be summoned. We are free spirits, and we do not suffer the commands of humans. Nonetheless, I want to enter a contract with you. Those are my children and I like you. If at any point you need to me to step in to protect you, I will do so of my own free will.” He left the comment hanging.

She understood. “There’s a catch isn’t there?”

He nodded gravely. “Cats do not follow the laws of humans. I don’t promise not to kill anyone, even if it’s someone important to you. I do not promise to obey your command. All I will promise is that I will never lie to you and that I will protect you and my kittens with my life. Think over this carefully. If you are agreed, you sign your name in that column just there.”

She did weigh his words carefully. Having what appeared to be a ferocious tiger, Patriarch of all Ninja Cats to be her guardian was a tempting prospect. However, if said tiger decided to destroy the village or kill Hinata or someone else important, wouldn’t that make it her fault for summoning him? “No thanks,” she answered finally.

Green and gold eyes popped. Clearly they had not expected her to decline. She rushed to explain her reasoning, and by the end of it, Nekokira was chuckling again, but it was a humorless sound. “Ten years old, and wiser than the Leaf elders,” he mumbled to himself. She did not think she was meant to hear it. “Now I must insist that you sign it. I would be proud to serve a wise and kindhearted ninja.”

Still she hesitated. She wasn’t comfortable allowing this. “You do not have to summon me, Hanabi,” he consoled her gently, “but it might be useful knowing that you could.” With that soft shove, she caved. Nekokira explained both how to sign her name in blood and how the summoning worked. He cautioned her on the demand for chakra, and bade her to not use the summoning jutsu if she was already exhausted. When it was finished, he rolled up the scroll. “Congratulations, Hanabi Hyuuga, for being the first human in existence to sign a summoning contract with the Cats. I caution you to tell no one of this exchange, however. This would be one secret that might save your life someday.” He leaned in closer and grinned, his fangs glinting in the light. “Also, Itachi might get jealous.”

She giggled, and the kittens woke up. Nekokira nosed the nearest one and regarded them with affection. “Alright, kits, give Papa a kiss goodbye. You’re off to be ninja now.”

“Nyaa!!!” they sang as one, pleased as punch. They kissed their mother and father, then gathered around Hanabi. She hugged the adult cats one more time, thanked them profusely, and then reverse-summoned herself out of there.

As soon as she had left the sunny meadows and returned the dark, dank shack on the Uchiha grounds, she hurtled into Itachi and kissed his face. “Thank you, Itachi! It’s wonderful! Thank you so much!”

He suffered the assault with happiness, but when his eyes fell upon the three kittens standing where there ought to be one, he was thrown awry. “There are three,” he stated dumbly. His expression was troubled.

“The older brother can count!” the black one giggled.

“We are ninja now!” trilled the blue one.

“We will guard Hanabi, our new friend, with our fierce warriors’ hearts,” the white one said seriously.

Hanabi looked at Itachi and smiled shyly. “They wanted me to take them all. I have to give them all names, too.”

Itachi looked at the small girl and the much smaller kittens in tow, burning the image into his memory. Deep down, he knew he’d probably never see her again, and he wanted to remember this moment forever. The white one’s eyes bored through his skull, baring all of his vulnerabilities to the world. Those stabbing green eyes made him intensely uncomfortable. What an unsettling creature! He regarded the blue and purple one, and immediately relaxed. She, at least, seemed to be sweet tempered and jovial. The black one with the red eye patch was neither sweet nor unsettling. This one was clearly full of mischief. The angry red patch around his golden eye was eerily reminiscent of his own. Without breaking eye contact with the kitten, he said to her, “You’ve had a brother named Puppy and a Raven named Dog. May as well have a kitten named Raven.”

Hanabi’s gaze immediately shifted to the black kitten, and she brightened. “That’s perfect. He does remind me of Inu. The colors are right, and he is willful like Inu was.” The kitten’s yellow sight looked confused. Itachi didn’t think the young cat understood why a human would name one animal after a different one. She knelt before the kittens and scratched the black one behind the ears. Immediately, he began purring. “You’ll be Karasu,” she murmured affectionately. Judging by his reaction, Itachi did not think the new Karasu minded much that he’d been named after a bird. Swiftly, the wheels in her head turned, and she decided to name the others after birds. “They are all keen and agile as the birds. I have also heard it said that our branch family seal is known as the caged bird seal. I would rather see these birds fly free.” 

Itachi respected that choice. It was much the same as his own dreams had been: peace, freedom, serenity. As he often did, he admired the way Hanabi’s brain worked. She named the blue one Hachidori after the hummingbird, and the white one Washi after the great eagles. Remembering the white kitten’s unsettling focus and strangely deep words, naming him after an Eagle seemed wholly appropriate. And the blue cat’s coloring and general brightness seemed right for a Hummingbird, too.

Yes, his little sister had done well indeed.


	21. This is the Last Time

Timeline: 7 years 7 months post-massacre

* * *

 

Saying goodbye to the ninja cats was extraordinarily difficult. They had waited a long time to see him again and were loath to let him leave. The yowling and whining broke his heart. Nonetheless, he promised to return—though he was fairly certain he couldn’t—gave every last cat and kitten a hug and an ear-scratching, and kissed Granny Cat on the cheek. He needed to get moving again. Staying put for too long was never a good idea for him. 

He’d seen to it that his little sister was returned safely to her bed. She was asleep before they returned, but he tucked her in gently, and then he had words with her kittens. “I have adopted this girl as my sister,” he told them, “and I am important to the ninja cats, you can be sure of that.” They nodded, two sets of golden eyes and one set of green glowing from the moonlight, though to his eyes the surely bright colors were muted. “I am counting on you three to protect her,” he continued. “I had meant to take her training upon myself and teach her whatever I can, to prepare her for the dangers and pain of the world into which she was born.” He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. “I am dying. She is never to know that. Can I count on you, the princes and princess of the Ninja Cats, to protect her?”

Hachidori pawed the air and expressed regret. “That’s terrible news! Yes, I will love her with everything I am.”

Karasu narrowed his eyes at Itachi, his tail twitching violently. “You are asking us to lie. We are not allowed to lie. It is our law. If she asks it I must tell her.”

Itachi nodded. “I know. But she won’t ask. All I ask is that you don’t tell her without good cause.”

Grudgingly, the black kitten nodded.

Washi peered up at him, his white fur glowing eerily in the darkness. “Hanabi will be well guarded. My brother and my sister and I have been well-trained, and Hanabi is intelligent and strong-willed. Whatever you go to do on the way to your death, Itachi Uchiha, please do not waste your strength on concern.”

Strangely, his smooth words both comforted and disconcerted Itachi. Old words should not come from such a tiny cat. “Thank you all,” he told them fervently. Then, he bent down to the young girl who’d given him a reason to continue living and kissed her forehead. “Happy birthday, little one,” he whispered. “I love you.” She stirred but did not wake.

He took his leave of the Leaf Village. He assumed it would be for the last time.

He gazed up at the bright moon hanging fatly above the horizon. It was larger than usual, an odd trick of astronomy that also rendered the moon pale yellow in the spring time. It was closely related to what some called a ‘harvest moon.’ It mocked his pain. Around him, the world was renewing itself, and he felt his time running out already.

He wasn’t ready. He had wanted more time with Hanabi, when the ambiguous “all of this” was over. He wanted, by some trick or magic, to wash his sins away and come home, to spend the spring time with Hanabi and her ridiculously over-wise kittens. He wanted his younger brother to know the truth, and to forgive him. He wanted to know Hinata.

And yes, somewhere within him, the ice around his heart had cracked, and he wanted to love again. Thinking of Amiko for the first time in many years, the tears came unbidden. Spy she might have been, but he still could not believe that she did not love him somehow, and oh, had he loved her!  Was it so impossible for him to find a woman who could see him as Hanabi did, know the real Itachi, and give him the gift of a family of his own? He had always loved and wanted children, but somewhere on the road to where he was now, before he was ever ready to marry, his dreams were shattered, the pieces too tiny and fragmented to solidify again. Yes, kids were out of the question now. They would grow up without a father anyhow. What kind of child deserved to be born into a world without ever knowing his father? And, no child deserved to be born to a murderous, treacherous, kinslaying father. The stigma would haunt his kids for life.

Gazing up at the moon of renewal, Itachi felt old. Behind him, asleep in her warm bed, was a young girl who would revolutionize the ninja world. He had no idea how, but she would do it. She had strength, compassion, dedication and loyalty. She saw through lies and politics and read the truth in people. She had charmed the Patriarch of Ninja Cats. Somewhere else out there was Sasuke, greedily acquiring whatever power he could just to destroy him. Darker, more ambitious than his Hanabi, but strong and enigmatic all the same. Sasuke would someday marry and father children, Itachi was certain, but he wasn’t jealous. “Live, foolish little brother,” he murmured to himself. “Live for both of us.”

Deep within his chest, he felt the scarring scratching painfully as he breathed. His illness might someday have a name, but doctors had never seen it before. He’d had a fit of sickness in front of Kisame, and fool man that he was, Kisame kidnapped half the doctors from half a dozen different nations to see him. All of them had reached similar conclusions and given him dozens of different drugs. His Sharingan had strained his eyes beyond the point of repair. The inflamed vessels in his eyes must have triggered an autoimmune response, meaning his body had tried to heal the damage by attacking the inflammations. Over time, the effect had gone wild and turned to his heart and lungs. Breathing was like swallowing daggers, microscopic blades that shredded through his lungs and lodged in his heart, perhaps literally. Sometimes he went days without anything but the aches, and some days he spent all day coughing up blood. At one point he thought his health might have been improving, but eventually his disease caught up to him with a vengeance, and he was completely incapacitated for weeks. Some nights, it plagued him so badly that he fell asleep weeping with the shakes.

Kisame had become indispensable, for which Itachi was both shamed and grateful. The first time that Itachi had fainted from fatigue and didn’t wake for two days, Kisame dropped in on Leader and threatened—threatened!—to flay the skin off his hands if he put too much more strain on Itachi. Kisame didn’t tell Itachi much about the conversation, but somehow it had worked and they’d spent the better part of the past year in hiding. Kisame still went out on his own occasionally, but Itachi had noticed that he was never gone as long as he used to be. They never spoke about why, but Itachi guessed that Kisame was genuinely worried about him.

They didn’t talk much anymore, but Itachi had grown quite fond of the strangely colored Mist ninja. He wondered if the effect that Hanabi had had on him had somehow opened up his heart to find affection in unlikely places. He spent the majority of his time with the older ninja, and might even consider him akin to a distant older brother.

“Itachi,” a quiet feminine voice called from behind him, interrupting his thought of self-pity.

He stopped, rested a hand on his weapons case, and turned, already adopting the mask of frigid violence. Whoever she was, he had never met her, and he didn’t trust her. His sight was too badly damaged to see who she was in the weak moonlight. “Who are you?”

“Um,” she stumbled, hesitating. His wariness slid just a little. She didn’t act as if she had come here to kill him, so he relaxed slightly. She seemed to be fidgeting, but he couldn’t be completely sure. “I’m Hinata, Hanabi’s sister.”

“Ah,” he responded, not quite sure how to respond to her. They stood there awkwardly, bathed in shadows, uneducated in the protocols of courtesy for a relationship such as theirs, held together only by the love of one small girl. “You are very important to her,” he said, hoping it would relax her as well.

Hinata’s heart was pounding. She had pushed herself to follow him out here and meet him, but she was terrified of him anyway. The only thought that kept her from bolting or fainting or rushing him on a suicide charge was that Hanabi loved him, and she trusted Hanabi. This close, though, he seemed every bit as dangerous as everyone said. “Yes,” she breathed, but wasn’t even sure if he heard it. Did her voice even register, or were her vocal chords frozen shut?

He seemed to sense her fear. He unclipped the fasteners of his cloak and let it drop so that she could see that he was not reaching for weapons. “Yes,” his silken voice cooed in the darkness, “I am as dangerous as they tell you, but I won’t hurt you.”

“How can I trust you?” she asked, her voice shaking violently.

He hesitated. “I’m not sure. I can’t make you trust me.” They stood like that for several minutes, him standing still and trying to look harmless while she looked him over warily, expecting him to kill her, probably.

Hinata had never been so near to a true killer before. Throughout a ninja’s life, he or she learned basic combat, with the expectation that some day they might need to kill an enemy to succeed. Hinata had never felt ready for that, and doubted that she may ever feel that way. Despite that, she had worked very hard to come to this point, and she knew with confidence that if she had entertained the thought that she might confront the murderer her little sister had named a brother, she would have dismissed it as madness and been done with it.

And yet, here she stood. True, she was trembling like a leaf in autumn, clinging to the last vestige of warmer times. Hanabi insisted that Itachi had not killed for the pleasure of it, and Hinata searched his shadow-darkened face for that truth. Did this man kill his family for some deeper reason, or was he a mad dog off his leash? She couldn’t really see his eyes as he stood there silhouetted against the moon, but with trepidation she decided that she needed to see.

Hinata took a step forward, and Itachi held his breath. He feared she might flee if he so much as twitched a finger, like a deer might. Then Hinata took another step, and another. When she stood within three feet of him, she stopped. This close Itachi could make out the shape of her face. It shared kindness with Hanabi, the same inner strength shining through. Her expression was softened somehow, though, and it reminded him that Hanabi had always worried that her sister might always be too nice, too weak, and not confident. Yes, he saw it. This woman, like himself, should never have become a ninja. The Shinobi world always destroyed the gentle-hearted.

 _Amiko…_ His lover had been much the same, a woman too lovely for the cruelty of the Shinobi way. He wasn’t sure if dwelling on her tonight had been a good idea or not, but just being this close to any woman made him sad.

Hinata stared into those pooled black eyes, and she saw what Hanabi had seen at the bare age of three: sadness. Vulnerability. Yes, the body of the man before her betrayed its ability to do violence. Tense, poised, like a predator on the balls of its feet, coiled and ready to strike. But behind those black, fathomless eyes was the pit of doom. Agony, nightmares, and self-hatred lurked behind them like a gnashing beast. Her breath caught at the power of the darkness inside, and tears sprang to her eyes unbidden. She understood Hanabi now, and her actions that had protected such a man for so many years, but she didn’t have the words. Her soul was moved with sympathy, and she felt as if she wanted to help if she could.

She could do something, though. From one of her pockets she withdrew a paper packet and held it aloft between them. “For you,” she said softly, hoping he would not be offended. It rattled quietly as it moved.

His eyebrows twitched in surprise. “What is this?” He took the packet from her and peered inside, but the contents were too dark and he could not see.

“Medicine,” she admitted. When she noticed his confused expression, she explained. “I’ve been training in the hospital, and nurses gossip. I heard about the doctors that disappeared and reappeared, and they spoke of a man with red eyes traveling with a friend with sharp teeth. Your partner did well to conceal your identities, but when word reached the Leaf Village they knew who you were. The medical team knows you are sick, so I borrowed some medicine.” She didn’t seem to notice the gratitude pouring off of him in waves as she continued to explain. “They won’t give you much longer, I’m afraid, but they will dull the pain and help you sleep.”

He swallowed, his chest tight, as he pocketed the gift. “Your sister is not wrong about you,” he whispered. “Your kindness is undeserved.”

She blushed under the praise. “Hanabi loves you. I love Hanabi and it brings me joy to see her happy. By extension that means that I love you, too.”

 _I love you, too._ It didn’t matter who had said it. He had never thought he'd hear them again, and hearing those words now shook something loose, and the part of his heart he had had locked away all these years both shattered and healed at the same time. Perhaps it was not too late to feel after all. “Hinata,” he said quietly, “I have no right to ask this of you.” He reached forward and grasped her wrists, hating the way she froze from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. “In a short time, either my brother or my illness will kill me. I chose this, I know. If I had a choice to do it again, I still would, for Sasuke, my little brother. I think you can understand. But,” he said, boldly stepping closer when she didn’t pull away, “there are so few who will remember me fondly, and it is for this that I will ask. Will you grant me one kiss, before I die?”

Her lips parted, reminiscent of a gasp. She’d never been asked for anything from a man, had never been asked out on dates or told she was beautiful. This was anything but expected. She knew he did not, could not, love her, and yet, she did want to help him find peace and acceptance if she could, so.... “I… don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything, and I won’t force you. A kiss is a gift, not a right. I just…” he trailed off, feeling awkward all of a sudden. She wasn’t Amiko. He wasn’t hers. It gave him an idea. “Is there someone else that you’ve always wanted to do this with?” Her eyelashes flickered, and he knew he’d guessed right. “I can promise that you will enjoy this,” he murmured, leaning his face forward, his breath warm against her ear, “and you need only shut your eyes and imagine.”

Hinata inhaled sharply, affected by the heat of his breath and the closeness. She’d only ever imagined what being this close to a man felt like. It felt nice, but it wasn’t Naruto, so she felt strange. And yet…

She did shut her eyes then, and he watched her thoughts drift away, the blush rise in her cheeks. Hinata was a dreamer, a romantic. It was clear that she’d imagined a kiss before. “Naruto,” she breathed, and Itachi smiled. “Yes, I can do this.” Her voice was a trembling whisper. She was nervous, but willing.

Itachi didn’t hesitate. He pulled her in quickly, tight to his torso, his arms wrapped strongly around her back and shoulders, and meshed his lips to hers. She liquefied in his embrace, her body adhered to his, and even raised her arms to curl around his neck, losing herself to the dream. She made a quiet sound of pleasure against his lips, a sound that made his heart soar. And then she sighed wistfully, giving all that was left of her breath to Itachi and his kiss, just before going entirely slack in his arms.

He smiled, amused and invigorated that he’d somehow caused her to faint. He scooped her legs up in his arm and tenderly lowered her to the ground. It was all so perfect that he was glad he’d done it. Unconscious, she couldn’t delay him any longer from leaving. “Thank you, Hinata,” he said to her sleeping form upon the grass, tucking her hair back away from her eyes so it did not tickle her awake. “I could not have asked for a more perfect gift.” He stood and donned his cloak as he thought about leaving a gesture, some sort of token appreciation like a flower, but dismissed the idea. They did not want each other, not really, and he didn’t want to leave her confused about his intentions.

He breathed in the air one last time, the sweet scent of Konoha, and coughed as he took his first step away. One cough became a chorus of coughs, and less than a stone’s throw away from where he’d left her he was driven to his knees, spilling blood upon the ground. The episode was so violent that he was overcome with panic, thinking this might be the last time. Hands shaking, he extracted the paper packet she’d given him and shook out several grains of whatever was in there, hastily stuffing them into his mouth and biting down. His mouth tasted like blood and death, but the medicine made his lips go numb, and soon he couldn’t taste at all.

Moments later, he could breathe again, raggedly, and he stood, legs quivering like a plucked harpstring. A short while after that, he staggered forward and lumbered away. Within the hour, he felt hale and new, and he even hummed a tune inside his head (so no one could hear, of course).

By the light of the spring moon, Itachi could no longer feel his lungs or his eyes. He was still mostly blind, but he no longer cared. The tingle from Hinata’s lips remained, and the long forgotten sensation of a softer body pressed against his was now remembered. His little sister loved him and his heart was free.

There was only one thing left to do. It was time to pay for the deed he had done. Somewhere out there, Sasuke was beginning to look for him more seriously, thinking he was ready. Soon, they would meet each other again for the first time in years. It would be the last time they ever saw each other again.

Itachi was ready to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm. I was never a fan of pairing Hinata with anyone else except Naruto, maybe Shikamaru or Shino (at least that makes sense). I certainly am not a proponent of giving her over to either of the Uchiha brothers.
> 
> However, if I were a 21-year-old man about to die (and of course, I’m not), I think I’d want to have one last go at women.
> 
> And if I were a 15-16 year old girl who’d never gotten any attention, I don’t think it would be that difficult if a really hot guy was all up in yer grill asking you to let him kiss you.
> 
> It’s Itachi, man. I’d be all over that. Maybe I’m a little biased?
> 
> Anyway, as I was writing, the characters told me that this needed to happen, and so it happened. I rather like the way it turned out!


	22. Lies Upon Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, my story is still canon-compliant. This is just after Itachi's death and before the war breaks out, obviously.

Timeline: 8 years 8 months post-massacre

* * *

 

“Princess,” Hachidori said to her, the blue cat’s belly pressed to the grass, “I have tragic news.”

Hanabi rolled her eyes. Hachidori was the only one of her kitten—cat, now—companions that ever took to calling her Princess. She had no idea why, and had asked her repeatedly not to do so, yet the diminutive little rainbow continued to do so anyway. Hachidori had grown to be sleek and agile. There was no hold she could not wriggle out of, and few creatures alive that could catch her. When she fought, her strikes were calculated and true. Hanabi was intensely proud of her cat companion, actually, and had considered sending her home so she could be properly admired by the tomcats. When she’d brought it up to her dear Hachidori, though, the cat seemed offended that she had considered ‘getting rid of’ her. Impossible, this one.

By contrast, Karasu was incorrigible. The roguish tom hardly ever spent any time with her. He roamed, skulked, and hunted. It seemed like something dark had brewed inside his head, but he refused to talk about it. Nonetheless, when he felt he was needed, guarding Hanabi was his priority, and watching how ferocious he could be when he fought was chilling. Hanabi would not wish the wrath of Karasu upon anyone. She’d watched him literally shred an enemy into bloody ribbons on one of her C-rank genin missions, and she never took him with her anymore unless she felt it was absolutely necessary. She worried he might actually enjoy killing a little bit too much.

Washi, on the other hand, was simply confusing. He was ever-present and sly. Sometimes he was there even when she felt that he was not. She had learned to guard her words and actions, because whenever she did something that was not careful enough, Washi spent hours lecturing her on what was considered proper conduct and what others might think.

Living with the three of them had been infuriating, but they had taught her behaviors that accomplished what Neji had not. Washi had taught her caution and poise. Hachidori had taught her humility and devotion. Karasu was teaching her patience and a host of other things that she needed to deal with the fire-hearted hellion. And she loved them all.

“Tragic news?” Hanabi prompted, her heart fluttering like butterflies. In her mind she checked off all of the people who were important to her and whether or not they were accounted for. Hinata was safe at home, Hiashi was in meetings today, and Hachidori was there before her. Karasu… well, he’d be fine whatever was happening. Washi was seldom seen, and never captured. That left Neji and…

Her ears were twitching. “Yes, Princess. Your adopted brother, Itachi Uchiha is dead.” Her voice was mournful. Though the pretty cat had hardly known Itachi, they well knew his prowess among cat kind was legendary.

Hanabi’s heart lurched. “No,” she whispered. “How?” She didn’t say that it wasn’t possible. Her older brother led a dangerous life and had a target on his back as it was. She well knew that he could someday die.

“It is said that he did battle with Sasuke, and that he lost.”

She remembered Itachi’s skill with kunai, the danger in his eyes, and his infamous crime. He did not have the air of a man who had ever lost. “He couldn’t have lost,” she protested. _That_ was impossible. Itachi had never been defeated. Itachi had never been in danger of being defeated.

“Princess…” Hachidori began, trailing off. Hanabi understood that she had more to say, but didn’t want to, for some reason.

“There’s more?”

Hachidori’s ears quivered. “I was told to say nothing,” she muttered.

“He’s dead,” Hanabi reminded her flatly. Saying it hurt.

Hachidori’s yellow eyes flickered back and forth, as if worried someone might overhear. “Itachi was not healthy,” she said. “He told us that he was sick.”

She narrowed her eyes, her grief morphing into anger at the admission. “You’ve known he was sick and you didn’t tell me?” She stood, her height towering over the much smaller cat, and her friend shrank away.

“Well, actually, he was dying,” Hachidori added, then hissed at her own mistake.

Hanabi flew off the bench she’d been seated on in a rage. “DYING?!?” she shrieked.

Hachidori skittered back, her shy nature winning out. Hachidori fought like a champion, but whenever possible she avoided confrontations. “I’m sorry!” she mewed.

“ITACHI WAS DYING AND ALL OF YOU KNEW?!?” Her hair flailed wildly in the hot August wind and stuck to her face. She pushed it out of her face impatiently as burning tears of anger leaked from her eyes. “I should have gone to him! I should have saved him!” She paced back and forth, raging at the world. “I could have saved him! Hinata’s a medic and she…”

“She gave him medicine,” peeped Hinata from behind her.

A stab of guilt sliced her, but was immediately overruled by her anger. “You knew, too, didn’t you?”

Hinata flushed, embarrassed. “Yes.”

“I can’t believe this,” Hanabi exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation. “Did everyone know but me?”

It was Hinata who answered. Belatedly Hanabi realized that Hachidori had fled. “No,” she told her, sitting down upon the bench. “Few even among those at the hospital knew, and I imagine Itachi told your kittens so that they would respond to the urgency to keep you safe. I think,” she added, her voice trailing off into the atmosphere, “I think that he was tying up loose ends because he knew he would be gone. I think he did it to make sure you’d stay safe.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Hanabi snapped. “Families don’t keep secrets!” Hanabi ignored the hurt expression on her beloved sister’s face and stalked out of the garden.

None of this was fair. She’d enjoyed her life the past year, thinking that soon this would all be over. She felt that she was on a breakthrough to finding some sort of evidence to prove Itachi’s innocence at the intelligence division. She’d found a locked set of files that could be what she needed, but she did not have authorization to peruse them. Now she knew the truth. Hinata and her oh so loyal ninja cats had kept the fact that Itachi was dying from her because they didn’t think she could handle the truth. The ultimate betrayal was that he hadn’t told her either, and that stung worst of all. “I would still have loved you,” she said to no one. “But now I’ll never get to say goodbye.”

Bitter tears streamed down her face as she ran. She had a destination in mind.

“Inoichi?” Hanabi intruded, peeking in through the doorway.

“Come on in, you know you don’t really need to knock,” he told her warmly. Hanabi was his favorite employee. For one so young, she showed remarkable promise, quick wits, and a perceptive mind. She reminded him of the daughter he was never close enough to, but quieter and less boy-crazy. Spending time working with the young genin had made him want to be closer to Ino, though, and he’d made as much effort as a man with a teenage daughter could make without losing his hold on sanity. Hanabi came without any of those complications, but having children was about loving and hating the complications that came with parenting. He appreciated the child, but it never diminished the love a father had for his daughter.

“I want to talk to you,” she said demurely, trying her hardest to maintain a hold on proper respects or risk letting her anger get the best of her.

Inoichi seemed to suddenly take notice of her expression. “Hanabi, what’s wrong?”

 _What’s wrong?_ What was it about that question that destroyed all control? She’d been strong, the strongest sister. She could keep a leash on her emotions; all Shinobi could. It hurt, but she’d survived graver wounds before. This one didn’t even bleed, but if felt that way. She would not show weakness in front of a superior. She. Would. Not.

But then the dam broke, and the tears erupted from her eyes, and before she knew it she had no control at all and sob after painful sob racked through her like a tempest. She crumpled to the floor and Inoichi was there with his arms around her, holding her and shushing her and begging her to calm down. Her strength had failed her, and she couldn’t stop, not even long enough to tell the poor father what was wrong.

Inoichi had done this before, though. Ino also had the tendency to maintain the façade of strength in public, only to break down at home for all the insecurities she harbored. Ino clearly hated showing weakness to her father—he knew she tried desperately to make him proud—but sometimes she couldn’t help it either. Daughters, it seemed, were constantly worried about things men would never worry about. It was exhausting, but he had more or less learned that when a teenage girl burst into tears, best you let her finish up and then sit there until she talks.

Gradually her weeping slowed, and she curled against him. Part of her wished her father had been like this; Hiashi hated crying and didn’t know what to do when one of his daughters fell to weeping. Inoichi kept one arm over her thin shoulders and waited, but she wasn’t sure how to say it. So she didn’t. “I’m ready for you to see,” she mumbled instead.

He had told her, once upon a time, that to be granted full security clearance at the Intelligence Division, she would need to submit her mind to him for screening. He knew immediately what she meant, but wondered a little at her bringing it up now, so he questioned it. “Why now?”

“Because,” she said, her voice strained and haunted, “It hurts. I don’t think I can say it right, and I’m tired of keeping secrets.”

“Okay,” he said to her, laying his palm on her forehead, his fingers snaking into her hair. He reached inside her thoughts, sifting gently. It was different when the recipient was a volunteer. Instead of forcing his jutsu through the brain, he only needed to wiggle it until the person was comfortable with his presence. He started with easy things, jumbling through memories about her kittens, her sister, and her genin team. When he felt the barriers in her mind relax, he probed deeper. A raven flashed through his fingertips, and then he met minor resistance, so he waited. Hanabi tensed, suddenly worried about what he would think when he found it. But then, the pain washed over her again and she ceased caring. She was tired of fighting, tired of hiding, and tired of feeling so alone. So she let go.

And Inoichi looked deeper. A deep frown creased his face the first time he saw those blood red eyes in her mind, and a fatherly sense of protectiveness threatened to put a stop to his searching and spank her for her follies. He resisted that, though, and instead kept looking. His father had taught him before that it was unwise to act without knowing all of the details, and his profession was centered on that belief.

But the memories buried deep within young Hanabi’s layers of thoughts were not filled with hate, killing, and treachery. There were no traps hidden in her brain to suggest that this was a trick. No one had planted these strange visions of Itachi in there except Hanabi herself, so either the girl was exceedingly delusional, or there was something else going on here. After further digging, he saw that Itachi had been instrumental in the Hyuuga’s ‘pet’ ninja cats, one of whom he’d heard stories of brutally killing enemy ninja, another who’d outwitted another and captured the man for questioning; an interrogation that provided crucial details on the whereabouts of a captured Leaf Ninja, whose life was later saved. The jounin had nicknames for those cats, a mock that mirrored the titles they earned among their kind: Karasu the Terror, Washi the Invisible, and Hachidori the Adored.

Inoichi searched deeper, and he saw Itachi hold her as she cried about the death of her mother, the loss of her sister, and the coldness of her father. He saw Itachi test her mettle and teach her vital skills she had later used to protect herself as a genin. He watched her preen as she first learned to use her special techniques to throw knives; it was a technique that was now so proficient that she could hit hundreds of targets at once with pinpoint accuracy. Then he watched him chastise her for taking the easy way out, and Inoichi saw her pout, retrieve the knife, and try again. He knew from battle reports that Hanabi had barely survived a handful of times after exhausting her chakra, and her trained proficiency with knives without her chakra was nearly as deadly as her proficiency with blades with her chakra. He saw, now, that she’d never have learned that skill without Itachi’s training. He had taught her how to survive, prioritize, and see.

And he’d been there for her when no one else had.

And finally, when he had reached the end of the most disturbing reel of mind footage he had ever seen in his twenty plus years of time with the intelligence division, he saw how they had met, through Hanabi’s eyes. He saw a tortured, troubled young man who had lost everything throw caution to the wind to hear someone say his name without hatred.

Inoichi let go. For a long while, the two of them did not look at each other, nor speak. Inoichi understood very well why Hanabi had never before submitted to his jutsu, and was keenly aware of why she did so now. Itachi was dead. The report was fresh this morning. There was nothing any of them could do to hurt him now. She no longer feared that her secret would cause him pain. But it also begged the question… why did she not worry that she might get in trouble for hiding his presence here? As a loyal Shinobi, she should have turned him in, and in failing to do so she might be branded traitor, too. And yet, she had trusted this to him. He tested her.

“You know you should have turned him in,” he began.

Hanabi knew better than to fight Inoichi. His position in this village could get her killed if he had desired it. “Yes,” she answered simply.

“You know that you’ve broken laws to hide that,” he continued.

“Yes,” she answered.

It didn’t add up. “Why are you showing me this now?” What could she possibly hope to gain from it?

“He didn’t do it,” she hissed fiercely, her fists balling up tightly.

“Excuse me?” he prompted, perplexed. “There’s no doubt that he did it, Hanabi.”

She shook her head impatiently. “I know that he did it,” she snapped. “But it wasn’t his fault.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” he said. In his head, he saw Ino, with her infallible faith in everyone, and he almost chided Hanabi for believing the best of Itachi. Yes, he could see that the S-rank Akatsuki member had a softer spot for children, her in particular, but there was nothing to suggest why Itachi had, seemingly out of nowhere, murdered his entire clan.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” she went on. “But he said—“

“Of course ‘he said,’ Hanabi, he’s a murderer and he wanted you to like him.” But those eyes in her memories suggested otherwise, though he ignored it.

“—he said,” she huffed in annoyance, “that his family was trying to seize control of Konoha and that he was ordered to do it,” she finished in a rush, her eyes blazing with a fire he’d seldom seen in her.

Inoichi’s jaw dropped in surprise. It sounded like a lie. It needed to be a lie. If it wasn’t a lie, then all of them had sinned so heinously that redemption was beyond reach. Inoichi had planned to celebrate this evening with some friends; Itachi’s death had, before this hour, meant that there was one less cold, analytical killer out there to threaten his family. Now he couldn’t be sure. At the surface, he still believed that Itachi had deserved to and needed to die. Now, though, somewhere deep down in that part of his gut he’d learned to trust in his line of work, the seed of doubt had been planted. It would continue to bother him until he learned the truth. Perhaps Hanabi could help. “What would you ask of me?” he asked her finally.

She took a deep breath. “I want access to the archives and Level 1 clearance.”

He sucked in a breath. What she was asking for was the level of authorization allowed only to a handful of high up officers. A request of this magnitude had never been granted, and he simply could not do it. “No,” he responded. She withered, and guilt stabbed at him. “I’m sorry, Hanabi, but if I did that it would raise too many questions.”

She considered it, and knew it to be true, but the revelation still stung. “I understand.”

“I can do you one better, though,” he added with one of the smiles he used to reassure Ino. “I’ll look into it myself.”

The way her small face lit up warmed him. “Really?” she asked, the hope in her eyes almost unbearable. “Thanks, Inoichi! I really appreciate it! You’re the best!” She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him so tight he had trouble breathing.

He spluttered and patted her back. “Easy,” he cautioned her. “That hurts!” She relinquished her hold on him and fell back, apologetic. His expression sobered. “I can’t promise anything, Hanabi. I can’t even be sure that the records you have even exist. If I find anything, it would probably only be something that someone forgot to destroy. If what you say is true, then someone has gone to great lengths to hide this fact, and it must have been for a very good reason. There’s just as strong a possibility, though, that he had no other reason other than murderous intent. Will you be able to accept that?”

She steeled herself, her Shinobi discipline returning. “Yes, I can accept that,” she told him. “But the truth in all of its forms is important.”

He clapped her on the shoulder with pride. That was one of the things he had taught her. “Yes, it is. And the truth is near to my heart. I will find out the truth if I can, and I won’t rest until I find it. That’s my nindo. It has made me who I am today, and I see no reason to give it up now.”

She hugged him again, much more gently this time. “Thank you so much Inoichi!”

He hugged her back. “You’re welcome, Hanabi. You’ve been an excellent assistant and a good Shinobi. I am glad to help.” He paused. “Don’t tell anyone about this conversation, though, okay?” She nodded. “Others won’t understand, and what we do here might be considered treasonous.”

“Don’t worry,” Hanabi told him wryly, “I’ve had a lot of practice keeping secrets. Apparently it runs in my family.”

He didn’t say anything to that, but she left. No matter. It had been a very revealing afternoon, and now he had a lot of work to do. There was a reason he’d been given this enormous desk after all: much more paperwork, files, and books could be piled upon it than any other’s desk. His position granted him a host of privileges, one of them being that no one ever had the right to question what he was researching. There was an understanding among members of the intelligence division that he and Ibiki knew what they were doing and would tell them when they felt it was needed. Until then, no one except for Ibiki would ever think to ask what he was looking for in the dusty underbelly of the archives.

Inoichi marched straight down to the warren of rooms where they kept all of the files. Somewhere down here, there might be a clue. If he were a high ranking official trying to cover up the most heinous crime in the history of the Village, where would he hide the evidence? He peered blearily into the cloud of dust that stirred with the slightest breeze. Where he stood was where they kept the oldest records, from before the birth of Konoha. Perhaps the cover up had been tossed in here to be forgotten. With a sense of dread, his eyes fell upon a literal mountain of papers that had not been categorized, organized, or even stacked properly. If he were trying to hide a document that would change history, he might have thrown it in there. Sighing heavily, he dumped a part of the pile into a bin and absconded with it to his office.

Minutes later, he ordered takeout and contacted Ino to ask for a thermos of coffee. It would be a long night. He was just through a small portion of the stack—mostly records of skirmishes within the newly fledged village, a remnant of the hatred that existed between Senju and Uchiha, the family feud that had always existed within these walls—when Ino pushed his door open. She never knocked; she knew it would interrupt his reading. Ino had developed a keen sense of respect for her father, so she set the thermos down and slumped into the couch he’d had hauled to his office for occasional sleeping at work, a habit his wife suffered with little comment, which he also appreciated.

When he’d finished scanning the document, he dropped it in the bin with the other papers he had scoured and gazed mournfully at his daughter. She was sixteen now, an age that he had long feared. She was far too beautiful, and it made him nervous. Someday soon, some upstart young man would woo and win her heart, and his daughter would be gone. He dreaded that day more than he dreaded the mountain of research that stood before him.

She sighed. “Long night again?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be long nights for a while, I’m afraid. Something’s come up.” He folded his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Hope it’s not too troubling,” Ino said with a quick smile. “You know Mom hates it when you spend all your time at the office.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said to her. “Give her a kiss for me.” He flashed a quick grin to her, too, and poured himself a cup of coffee. “I’ll have to get back to work after this one,” he said to her, “but tell me about your day.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it, Dad. Maybe another time. There has been tension in the group. I’ve been spending a lot of my time alone.” She hugged herself and looked away.

Something was going on with their kids. He suspected it had more to do with them growing up, though, and less to do with anything in particular. They were keeping to themselves more, making decisions on their own, and exploring their relationships with their friends and comrades. If Ino was spending more time thinking about her feelings and less time acting on them, that was all to the good, in his opinion. “Okay,” he answered.

They enjoyed each other’s company in easy silence for a few minutes, but she spoke anyway, despite not wanting to. “I don’t think I like Sasuke anymore,” she said.

He sipped his coffee. “Does this have anything to do with the report that came this morning?”

She glanced sidelong at him, then her vision dropped to the papers strewn all over his desk. “Does that?” she asked with a wry smile. He didn’t answer, merely grinned. She grinned back. She ran her hands through the blonde hair she had inherited from him and perfected. “I’ve always wanted a sibling,” she admitted regretfully. “I don’t see how anyone could kill their brother, even if he was a monster,” she mused aloud. “I just… can’t even imagine. I never thought Sasuke could hate anyone that much and… well, I’m not sure I like that in a person.”

He frowned as he listened to her words. It hit too close to the point he hid beneath his elbows on his desk. Was Itachi even the monster they thought he was? He opted for a different route. “Well, admittedly, I had always wanted a son,” he told her, “but we’re lucky we even got you.” A smile toyed at his lips. “Luckier, perhaps.” She smiled at the praise. “I think you need to trust your instincts,” he told her, offering fatherly advice. “The man you marry you’ll spend years with, and you’ll know him better than anyone else will.” He stared down into his cup, thinking of his own wife, then added, “You’ll probably know him better than he knows himself. What I mean to say is, don’t give your heart to a man who won’t know what to do with it. Don’t love a man who cannot cherish your love.”

Ino drank in his words and weighed them. Her father and she shared a special relationship, unlike most fathers and daughters did. He hadn’t come out right and said it, but she heard it hidden in his words anyway. Her father disapproved of Sasuke. Killing Itachi had proven that he did not appreciate unconditional bonds of love. There could be no reason for killing one’s brother. Though he didn’t say it, Ino knew her father well enough to know that Inoichi would kill a man he could not trust to take care of her just to protect her from her own affections, and she would never find out how he had done it or where he had hidden the body. The unfortunate young man would simply be gone, and Inoichi would act as if nothing had happened. She loved him for it. Hated him, too. “Thanks, Dad,” she muttered.

“You know Choji likes you, right?” he offered helpfully.

She rolled her eyes. “Mmyeah, you tell me that every time the subject comes up. Or even kind of comes up. Or anytime you think I might be interested in someone you don’t like.”

“I like Choji.” He hid his smile in his coffee cup.

“I’m aware,” she grumbled. She twisted her lips around as she thought about the possibility, as she always did. Whether or not she’d admit to it, she did have feelings for Choji, that much was plain. The depth of those feelings was the mystery, though. “Choji lacks confidence, Dad,” she told him. “He’s not ready for any girl.” _I’d tear him apart_ , she thought honestly. _And he’s too sweet to deserve that._

“Maybe just keep your options open then,” he chuckled as he drained the rest of his mug and poured another. “Go break hearts, Ino Yamanaka,” he said as he waved her off.

“Wow, really Dad, you’re kind of weird sometimes. Don’t work too hard.”

* * *

 

Old Hinata would have curled up in a ball and cried. New Hinata would do no such thing. She had upset Hanabi, and she would make it right. She did feel terrible about not telling Hanabi about Itachi being sick, but it had taken until today for it to really dawn on her what that might mean. Looking back, she knew she would have wished to know if she had been in Hanabi’s place.

She hadn’t known how to handle the situation, and that was her own fault. When she’d heard about Itachi’s illness, she’d wanted to tell Hanabi. But when she thought about saying something, she wasn’t sure how to start. She was not particularly fond of Itachi in the first place, and she was worried that if she delivered the news poorly, it might strain her relationship with Hanabi. She had almost brought it up several times, and then the moment had passed and she lost her nerve again.

And then, he had kissed her, and she wasn’t sure how she should take that either. If she did end up telling Hanabi that Itachi was dying, her expression would betray her. Not that she had had feelings for Itachi, but they had shared an excellent kiss, and she was likely to blush from head to toe when she spoke of him for too long—or worse, faint—and then what would Hanabi think? She was too smart for her own good. She could figure things out for herself whether or not Hinata even said anything.

And so, she had failed. She needed to make things right. Hanabi was important to her, and she had been wrong here. She definitely should have told Hanabi. It was not decent of her to hide such serious secrets. She felt awful about keeping something from her sister, especially concerning Itachi. It was wrong.

 _Wrong. Like that kiss she’d shared with him. Best not to think about that._ Unbidden, her fingertips flew to her lips, and she felt her face heat. She had enjoyed it, very much, as he had promised. She had never before been intimate with a man in any way, and in that stolen moment she’d felt beautiful, sexy, and special. If only it really _had_ been Naruto, and not make believe.

Remembering what that felt like only made her more determined to catch his attention. Right now he was out on a mission, but hopefully soon she would have the chance to show him how she felt and what he meant to her. Something about that kiss was a spark in her confidence, the kick she needed to be better. It was an incentive to make sure that the next kiss was from Naruto. Kissing and love wasn’t quite as frightening as it had seemed. It was thrilling and worth going for. If she didn’t reach out and grab it, no one would give it to her. She would try. At the very least, Naruto would know that she loved him. The rest would be up to him.

She sighed dreamily as she scratched out an apology on a folded paper greeting card. Inside it, she tucked a map that she had drawn, leading the way to a wonderful treasure (a banana cake) as her way of saying she was sorry she screwed up. Hopefully, Hanabi would still appreciate the games they played together, and have so much fun finding the treasure that they could really talk. Hanabi would forgive her; Hinata rarely hurt her little sister, so surely they would be friends again after it had all blown over.

The map led to an origami swan. The swan was another map. That map led to an origami koi, which led to a tiger, and then a weasel, then a frog, then finally a dragon, which led to the cake. She built the ever-present blanket fort in Hanabi’s room and placed the apology card on a pillow in the center of the fort. When she had arranged it just so so that it looked as pretty as it could, she went to go find Hanabi.

She wasn’t in the garden.

She wasn’t at her usual spot by the wall.

She wasn’t at work. Inoichi said she had been, though.

She wasn’t with Tenten. Or Neji. Or Father. Or Ko.

Her trusty guard-cats were all three curled up on her bed asleep. This was one of their many scheduled naptimes, and they had not seen her since Hachidori had broken the news this morning.

Hinata grew worried, but she endured. Perhaps she truly wanted to be alone for a short while. She was grieving. But she didn’t return that evening. Or the next day.

Or the next.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny hints of Ino/Choji. Don’t hate. I’m not the pairing’s biggest fan either, but they’re JUST THOUGHTS. :P CALM DOWN.


	23. Damnation

Timeline: 8 years 10 months post-massacre

* * *

 

Hanabi hadn’t packed food, nor a change of clothes. She hadn’t left a note indicating where she was headed. She hadn’t even told the cat trio that she was leaving the Village.

In fact, she was hardly thinking at all. Had she paused and considered the rational consequences of her actions, she might have bothered to do all of those things. By not leaving a note or telling anyone where she headed, she left the question unanswered about why she was gone. Her family might consider her kidnapped, or the administration might consider her leaving a defection and declare her rogue. She had worried that if she stopped at the house for her things, she’d be stopped by Ko or one of her family members and raise suspicions.

When she left Inoichi’s office, a new purpose took root in her mind. The Leaf Village did not need her, and she did not want to be here right now. She knew and trusted Inoichi; he would learn the truth about Itachi, and either Itachi’s name would be cleared or it wouldn’t. It didn’t change the fact that her brother was dead. She loved her sister dearly, but she didn’t want to see her right now. She wasn’t ready to forgive that lie, not yet. Grieving and lost, she only wanted to be alone. She didn’t want everyone to ask her what was wrong, for she could not tell them even if she had wanted to. She didn’t want Hachidori around simpering and calling her Princess when she felt like a fool. She didn’t want Washi clucking after her about her mistakes. And she didn’t want to tell Karasu to behave himself. She was sick to death of D-rank missions, blanket forts, and making coffee. It all seemed so insignificant and irritating now that Itachi was gone.

Her bare feet, pulsing with chakra, carried her up and over the wall, and she freed herself from the morass of politics and niceties in the Leaf Village. She could not endure one more moment of playing pretend that everyone was wonderful and nice when they had all proven differently. The only person who had never done her any wrong—and she conveniently forgot that Itachi hadn’t told her of his illness either—was now dead and gone.

Sasuke had taken Itachi from her. Sasuke had killed his own brother. Somewhere out there was the man who had murdered the sweetest man in the world. Sasuke had killed _her_ brother, and he would pay for that. She was going to kill him.

She had read plenty of reports about Sasuke’s strength. She had seen the archives filled to bursting with news and spy reports stating that Sasuke had defeated such and such villain who was supposedly impossible to defeat. She had read that he had absorbed his former teacher. She had heard about how he had abandoned his teammates, forsaken all bonds to Konoha, and defeated the perfectly well honed Itachi, who had once been the pride of the Uchiha clan. Sasuke was strong.

She was stronger. Itachi had seen to it. Itachi had taught her that nothing was more important than protecting the ones that you loved. He’d taught her how to conserve her chakra, and how to survive in spite of its depletion. She had failed him, but she would avenge him. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. How could he have killed his own brother? She’d been a better little sister than he ever had been a little brother, and that pissed her off.

Angrily, she scrubbed the tears away from her eyes and waded deeper into the forest.

* * *

 

 _…Tension between Senju and Uchiha,_ the report read. _Advise separating the two by any means necessary._ On the next line it read in a different hand, _Charge Uchiha with creating Konoha police force. Effectively separates and honors Uchiha. Crisis averted._  

Inoichi scrawled the lines into a notebook that he kept in his drawer, carefully referencing the report from which it had originated.

Hours passed until he found anything else of use. _Itachi Uchiha, age 10._ It was merely his name written on the roster of new ANBU initiates with a picture. It had been a long time since Inoichi had seen a picture of Itachi so young. He hardly looked any different in this picture than any of the newer ones. If anything, Inoichi would have said that Itachi looked more stressed in his younger picture. He found that odd, and made a note of it next to the entry in his notebook. After all, he could not tuck this picture into his notebook, or he ran the risk of tampering with archived records.

He dropped the stack of rosters into the bin, ignoring the rising fog of dust that it caused. Then he grabbed a thin volume of mission reports and a fresh cup of coffee before making his way to the office couch. He stretched his legs out with an appreciative groan and carefully thumbed open the book. Coffee in one hand, book open in the other, he sighed and began to read.

Hours ticked by. Outside this room, life would be continuing as normal for the Village’s inhabitants. He often found it interesting to consider what sort of every day activities were going on outside the Intelligence Division while he was hard at work to keep them safe. It gave his life more meaning somehow.

It was one such moment when he realized he’d been reading the same line of text over and over again, and his vision was going blurry. Cross-eyed, he realized blearily. He shook his head and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Then, just to refocus his eyes, he glanced around the room. The clock said that it was a little past 3 a.m., and outside his window it was completely dark. Time to call it a day, he decided.

He was just about to shut the book when something caught his eye in the text. It was the line that he’d been glazing over. It was only now that he finally saw what it said. _Standard_ _ANBU reports that the Uchiha clan is ready to mobilize. Blood expected. Please advise. –SSK._ The next line sent a thrill coursing through his blood. His quest was at an end.

 _Advise elimination. I will handle it. Standby.--DS_

He recognized the hand that had written the second line, and the initials confirmed his suspicions. The document he held must have been a line of communication between Root and Danzo. It was not enough in and of itself to condemn anyone or absolve Itachi of any guilt; for that, he’d need a command order or something equally concrete. The document in his hand was more of an opinion. It did tell him, however, that Hanabi’s suspicions were correct, Itachi Uchiha had told the truth, and the Leaf Village was responsible for exterminating the Uchiha. Feeling triumphant, he penned the line and the source into his journal and moved the document to his locked desk drawer.

He picked up a biography on Homura Mitokado next. Surely that would help him sleep.

* * *

 

Ibiki opened the door slowly around five o’clock in the morning. The room was still dim from a guttering candle next to the couch, and Inoichi was snoring softly from its cushions, one arm thrown over his face, the other trailing on the floor next to the couch. Across his chest lay a book askew. He recognized it; it was a biography on Homura Mitokado, one of Konoha’s elders. It was... not his favorite book.

He had known Inoichi Yamanaka for over a decade, and the older man had grown too comfortable believing that no one dared snoop on his personal files. Ibiki was far more cautious, but more importantly, Ibiki’s modus operandi involved attaining information at all costs. Inoichi was his friend and partner at the intelligence division, but that wasn’t going to stop him from finding out what his latest project was. The main difference between Inoichi and him? Inoichi was a father. As his precious daughter had grown and blossomed, Inoichi had grown more and more relaxed. He was a man content with his station in life, and had no reason to be cautious around his own friends.

Inoichi was up to something. He’d pulled shelf after shelf of the oldest texts, dustiest records, and seemingly innocuous scraps of paper. Whatever it was that he was searching for in the rooms that were older than dirt, Inoichi had given the task priority importance and was entrusting it to no one else. Whatever that scrap of information was, Ibiki wanted it. There was no information that was not worth having, in his opinion. Knowing things was his business. Literally.

Ibiki toed very slowly into the room, careful to stay near the edges. If his shadow fell across Inoichi, it was possible that it might wake him. About three paces from the wall, he knew, was a sagging spot in the floor. If he stepped in it, the floor could creak and announce his presence. Expertly, he skirted the creaky spot, then spun quickly enough to avoid making too much shadow. He sank against the wall, blending in, waiting for the feeling of his presence in the room to fade. _Just part of the room_ , he thought, willing it to be true. Silently, he waited. Inoichi’s soft snores filled the room. The office smelled like dust and age, mixed with cold coffee.

Ibiki leaned out from the wall to observe the items Inoichi had buried himself in. From behind Inoichi’s head, he could see where the man’s personal notebook was tucked into the crook of his arm. That was where he wrote down notes that he considered might be clues. It was pretty well lodged in there, though. If he reached for it, the tugging might wake his friend. There was also the book of Homura, and, upon even closer inspection, something tightly balled in Inoichi’s fist. He hesitated, considering his options.

Inoichi sighed heavily in his sleep, then turned toward the edge of the couch. The notebook he kept slid down the front of his chest and plopped upon the floor, while Homura’s book slid even further down, where Inoichi had rolled on top of it. His fist, Inoichi tucked in under his face, and Ibiki was decided. In one smooth motion, he swiped past the couch and scooped up the notebook.

Breathing a very quiet sigh relief, Ibiki stationed himself near the candle. He estimated he had about thirty minutes of light left, so he opened the cover, skipped to the page Inoichi had left lop-eared, and began skimming the writing. The clues seemed disconnected at first: malcontent between Senju and Uchiha, the founding of the police force, ANBU roster records, odd mission reports. However, as Ibiki read deeper, he was beginning to see a pattern. Unrest among the Uchiha, distrust, admiration of exceptional skills, reports of the Akatsuki, history of the Leaf Village, biographical notes on the members of the Konoha council of elders and the Third Hokage, Root… He blinked with surprise at the last line that had been written.

“Did I find anything interesting for you… Ibiki?” Inoichi murmured from beneath his outstretched arm.

Ibiki was not shocked, and he doubted that Inoichi was upset with him. They’d worked together for long, hard years. Nothing surprised them anymore, and they knew each other’s habits all too well. Knowing was more important to Ibiki than any code of conduct, and snooping was not beyond him. Ibiki merely smiled ruefully and shut the small book with a snap. He’d figured it out. The news troubled him, but he wasn’t necessarily surprised. The only question was… how had Inoichi been tipped off? 

“Yes, all of it. I think we ought to have a chat,” Ibiki began, moving over to the desk chair.

With a groan, Inoichi pushed himself to a sitting position, stretched, and yawned loudly. “You sure do know how to get a man’s blood roaring in the morning,” Inoichi grumbled. “What time is it?” His tone conveyed annoyance, but Ibiki ignored it. They’d done this particular dance too many times for him to take Inoichi’s grievances seriously.

“5:23,” he answered easily.

“How kind of you to wake me for work then, two and a half hours early.” He cracked his knuckles. Ibiki waited, his expression stoic. Inoichi shook his head with a smile. “Impossible as ever,” he mused fondly. “I was tipped off that a recent member of the deceased might not be wholly responsible for the Uchiha Massacre,” Inoichi started, giving Ibiki enough to latch onto. Having read Inoichi’s notes, Ibiki likely had enough information to come to the same conclusions he had.

“You’ve guessed that the Council of Elders put Itachi up to it,” Ibiki said flatly. “What else do you know?” He crossed his arms over his chest. This was not good.

“Not a whole lot,” Inoichi admitted. “I’ve theorized that the why of it is because the Uchiha were planning a takeover, though I’m not even sure how deeply that runs. It may only have been a handful of greedy, angry old men. I think if I dug further, I’d have found Itachi’s reports to the Hokage, but I haven’t gotten to that set of files yet. My questions are simple. Who was planning the rebellion? The why of that is obvious, that there were those among the Uchiha who had felt slighted by the power of the Senju. Who was responsible for forcing Itachi to spy on his own? Whose idea was it to eliminate the entire clan, instead of those who were the root of the problem? Whose idea was it to ask that of Itachi? And then, why did Sasuke survive?”

Ibiki nodded with each additional question. Inoichi was excellent at hard research. It was an affinity of his, one that Ibiki himself had never been able to stomach. Spending too long reading like that put Ibiki right to sleep. He preferred a more direct approach to obtaining information. Although, that didn’t mean he didn’t prefer a prettily packaged shortcut once in a while; that was why he sometimes read Inoichi’s notebook. They’d done this hundreds of times. It was actually a wonder that Inoichi didn’t just leave his journal in Ibiki’s desk drawer at the end of the night instead of playing ninja charades and pretending that he didn’t belong in the other man’s office.

Inoichi waited, but Ibiki was not offering anything. “What do you think?” he urged. “Am I on the right track?” 

Ibiki fixed a hard stare on his friend. Inoichi blinked at the response; Ibiki had never reacted this way to his research, but he supposed the sensitive nature of it had Ibiki worried. It was understandable; accusing the council of sacrificing a Leaf Shinobi for any reason would not sit well with either the council or the citizens of the village. “Inoichi,” he said gently—tenderly, for Ibiki—, “give this up.”

Inoichi started, confused by the response. “Why?” Ibiki didn’t answer, so he considered the rude response. “You know something,” he accused. “You know and you can’t say anything.”

Ibiki’s frown deepened. “If you learn the truth, they’ll dispose of you, Inoichi,” he said to him.

“Who?” Inoichi knew very well whom.

Ibiki’s eyebrows rose a fraction. Yep, that was whom.

“I see.” Danzo was recently pronounced dead, but… whether or not anyone officially knew about it, Root was general knowledge. No one spoke of it, but everyone in the intelligence division, at least, knew it was there. With Danzo gone, there was no telling which of the soulless brats he’d raised had taken over. “Is there any way I can get you to level with me on this, my friend?” He leaned his elbows forward on his knees. If Ibiki knew something, he needed Ibiki on his side. No one wanted Ibiki on the other side.

The scarred, grizzled man closed his eyes and let out a broken sigh, wishing Inoichi would just drop it. He wasn’t about to tell Inoichi the story of how he’d found out about the Council’s decision to sacrifice Itachi, or how he’d kept his silence all of these years to protect his legacy. Ibiki had wondered if he was the only one besides the festering old men and woman that had known. Turns out he was correct, but to protect his own skin, he’d said nothing. It wasn’t that he was a coward. Far from it, in fact. It was just that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

It was a long forgotten fact that he and Itachi had served in ANBU together. Ibiki was just rising through the ranks of the captains toward the rank he now held as head of interrogation. Itachi had been flying through other ranks even faster, at a rate that might have made him the head of ANBU entirely before his sixteenth birthday. Ibiki had great respect for strength and prevailing serenity, and Itachi had been impressive. They’d almost been friends despite the gap in their ages, and might have been if what had happened hadn’t happened. 

There was one day, perhaps a month before the tragedy at the Uchiha compound, when Ibiki had learned of all the responsibilities that the younger man had shouldered. He hadn’t heard it said, not explicitly, but he read people as easily as most men read Icha Icha novels. It had been plain upon the young man’s face. Over a lifetime, Shinobi learned to hide their emotions from their faces. Itachi had learned faster than most, but Ibiki had learned to crack that code better than any ninja alive.

He’d come upon Itachi in the middle of the night as he stood vigil, a common ANBU task that involved staying up all night, guarding the Hokage as he slept. It was a favorite assignment for any ANBU, since it was both easy and honorable. It gave a man time to reflect on all the things he’d not had time to consider throughout his day. He couldn’t even remember what he’d been doing up that night, only that he’d seen the expression on Itachi’s face, and that he could not unsee it. He’d been cradling a photograph. Just one tiny scrap of paper with a likeness imprinted upon it that was almost a mirror of his own. Ibiki did not see it well, but recognized the child captured there as his comrade’s younger brother. The lines on Itachi’s face seemed like wrinkles then, even if they were not. His face seemed infinitely older. The corners of his lips were pinched tight, a motion he could recognize as trying not to cry. Despite that attempt, however, the light from the Harvest Moon had illuminated the silver river of tears on his face.

Shinobi did not show emotion, it was said. It was a lie. But a man with a cross to bear bore it when no one was watching. He purged his emotions so that he could ignore them the next day, and that was exactly what Itachi was doing. That single evening had, for the time being, meant little to Ibiki. He had felt sympathy, then, but it hadn’t told him much. There could be any number of reasons why a man could feel upset when thinking of a brother.

When the news reached his ears that the Uchiha had all been killed and Itachi had fled, his thoughts blared like sirens. He’d known Itachi. They’d served together in ANBU for a couple of years. The boy had always been quiet and dutiful. He’d never broken a single rule, nor struck out in anger. He obeyed his orders without question, respected his superiors, and never turned down a mission. He’d been perfect.

It had been so easy for the others to believe that the pressures of his training and rapid elevation had turned Itachi into a monster. Surely no one, not even Itachi, could survive the harsh discipline of Fugaku, the rigors of ANBU, and the expectations of the Village without going a little crazy? They’d accepted with little comment that the quiet, gentle creature in the regulation uniform had been simmering with hatred and simply gone mad. They hadn’t known Itachi at all. And so, they’d slapped his name and picture in their cute little book and hunted him ever since, an angry mob screaming for justice.

Justice. Hilarious.

Ibiki had known—well, guessed, though he seldom guessed wrong—that Itachi had done something he hadn’t wanted to do to protect a certain sullen-looking boy in a certain well-worn photograph, a notion that was only further supported by the mysterious survival of Sasuke Uchiha. Others might justify the boy’s survival by insisting that he had been at school, then stayed after to work on his shuriken practice. Others did not know Itachi. Itachi had never failed. If he had meant to wipe out the Uchiha, then all of them would be dead. Period.

That Sasuke had lived meant that Itachi had wanted him to live. That Itachi had escaped was no surprise.

He had considered reaching out to Itachi over the years, but it was an urge that never lasted long. They had not exactly been close. If he confronted Itachi, he was sure that Itachi would never admit to a deception. It would mean that many others would die, and there was a chance that that could mean Sasuke as well. There was an even greater chance that Itachi would assume it was a trick.

So three people alive knew what Itachi had done. Homura, Koharu, and himself. The secret was close to dying with the old crone and her vulture, or so they thought. When they and Danzo had passed, it had been his intention to clear the air and pardon Itachi and Sasuke both, dissolve Root, and restore peace. He’d missed too many years with his own brother; seeing Itachi that night on his vigil had cemented this into the one cause he lived for. He’d die a happy man if he could somehow bring the two brothers back together.

That purpose was dead now. It had died with Itachi when Sasuke slew him. There was no longer any point in clearing up the history of the Uchiha massacre. Sasuke was Akatsuki, Itachi was dead, and soon enough the rest of them would be, too.

He leveled his eyes with Inoichi. The older man had been a superb leader in the intelligence division, but his path to righteousness sometimes clouded his ability to see all of the consequences. “To what end, Inoichi? What can you hope to do with this now?”

Inoichi never dismissed words that came from this man. Ibiki was one of the most level-headed people he’d ever met, and he had always appreciated his insight. And so, he thought about it. It was, admittedly, the first time he really had considered what might happen once he obtained the information that he wanted. Why was he really doing this? At the end of the day, the answer actually wasn’t all that difficult. “What is a Shinobi to you, Ibiki?”

Ibiki thought about it. He, too, respected the other man’s words. Working together for as long as they had had proven that they could trust each other. “A Shinobi is a person who will train without end, lay his life on the line to protect, and never complain about it.”

Inoichi nodded his approval. That was about the right of it. “And yet, do you know a Shinobi who has never complained?”

“I did, once.”

Inoichi nodded again. _He_ had _not_ forgotten that Ibiki and Itachi had served together in ANBU. “Every ninja I know cares about his own reputation. All of them want the best missions, the chance to make a name for themselves, and to someday die well protecting something important. Itachi didn’t do that. If I’m right, and I suspect that I am, Itachi had everything that every Shinobi I’ve ever known has dreamed of for his entire life, and he threw it away to perform a dirty mission for a club of quibbling old men… to save his little brother.” He fixed his blue eyes on Ibiki.

Their eyes met just as the candle fizzled out and cloaked them in complete blackness. “I want his name on that rock, Ibiki.”

* * *

 

Despite how easily he rested next to the campfire, his mind was seething with rage.

It was a constant battle for him; somehow, he’d never been good around other people. Rage, hatred, and contempt for everyone around him was an ever-present demon, a feeling he could not shake. It was a trait that he had always despised about himself. He’d even gone so far as to try to ignore it. Despite what others may think, he had considered Naruto and Sakura friends, and Kakashi a true mentor. He’d given friendship his best shot, he really had. But then Naruto starting surpassing him and the hate ate him up inside, until his only thought when he was around Naruto was to destroy him, destroy the rival, and be recognized as the true power of Team Seven.

Across the fire, his companions seemed troubled but mostly content. Jugo rested quietly, his thoughts bent, presumably, on his old friend Kimimaro and his own obsession with remaining sane enough to control his violent urges. He suffered his faults in silence as he always did, not wanting to whine about his problems to anyone. The man was far too sweet tempered—when he wasn’t on a rampage, anyway—for his own good. Suigetsu’s demeanor was different. Frowning, his eyes fixed on the restless flames, he scuffed at the dirt with a stick. Sasuke knew that he was thinking about Karin, and thinking about Sasuke, and thinking about how it was clearly Sasuke’s fault that Karin was gone. Suigetsu had dreamt of killing him, Sasuke knew, but was too shrewd to believe he could win. Wise choice. Nonetheless, Sasuke figured that Suigetsu’s usefulness was nearing its end. It was only after Karin was absent that Suigetsu had realized his true feelings for Karin, and love and concern were driving the younger man toward the killing edge. Soon, Suigetsu would try to kill him, or simply escape. Sasuke assumed Suigetsu was too much a coward. Likely he would sneak away, submit himself to the Leaf Village and spew his traitor’s heart to Ibiki and his goons.

And Sasuke hated them. Both of them, and Karin. He had hated that he had ever needed them in the first place. He hated their arguing, their weakness, and their nonsensical devotion. Cowards. Simpering, whining cowards was all that they were. He’d be glad when they were gone. Perhaps he should just kill them now.

“Something wrong, Sasuke?” Jugo asked him suddenly, breaking him from his reverie. “You’re grinding your teeth and glaring.” The look on his face was disgustingly worried. Was everyone in the world a milk-hearted wuss?

“I’m fine,” he growled, more forcefully than he had intended. “I’m fine,” he repeated more calmly, for his own benefit. If he said it often enough, it’d feel true. Suigetsu glared sidelong at him, as if Sasuke would not notice. Jugo nodded, unconvinced, but didn’t trouble him any further.

He wasn’t fine. Would never be fine. Everything in this god-forsaken world was wrong. He’d killed his brother because he believed him to be a monster, only to find out that, not only was Itachi not at fault for what he had done, he had wanted Sasuke to kill him and had meant to die. It was all some magnificent nightmare designed to never give Sasuke peace. He had been certain that Itachi’s death would be the end of things. He’d merely go home and restore the Uchiha grounds to their former glory. No, even better! When he wasn’t obsessing about killing Itachi, he was dreaming about life after killing Itachi, but he’d ruined it all when he’d donned that black and red cloak.

Who was he anymore? He had a name, but the Uchiha name was stigmatized. Most of its claimants were decimated by the most infamous criminal in Leaf history. That self same man was decidedly innocent, damned from birth to wield his name in a war that would destroy the Leaf, only to turn it around on those that had cursed  him with that name. And now, the sole survivor of a once legendary clan, Sasuke was merely a ghost. A sad remnant of a golden age, unwelcome and unwanted by anyone. He could never go home. He couldn’t save Itachi.

Hell, he doubted he could save himself. The rage inside his chest just kept building, a beast to rival a bijuu, feeding on his hate and his malice, growing until it crowded his heart right out of his chest. He’d given up long ago on ever sating his personal demon. There was no amount of love in the world that could defeat it, and no amount of hate and destruction to adequately feed it.

He was damned, and he no longer cared. He had been an avenger, and the victimized were avenged. Now he was a Weapon, a nuclear bomb that would bring justice on the ninja world. He would point himself at the heart of Konoha and blast the rot from within. It was his final gambit. When this was over, his life would be forfeit. There was no way and no reason to escape what they would do to him. There was nothing left for him. When Itachi’s death finally made sense and had meaning, he could rest. Then, and only then.


	24. Tears

Timeline: 9 years post-massacre

* * *

 

Hinata watched Hachidori as she stalked the room. The blue cat paced daily, wearing the finish off the boards in Hanabi’s room. Washi merely watched out the window, as if waiting and expecting for her to appear. And Karasu? Karasu didn’t seem to care so much. He slept peacefully, as he always seemed to, a fact that annoyed Hinata greatly. 

Since Hanabi’s disappearance several months ago, this had been their daily routine. Hinata had a feeling that she’d be able to locate her sister if she’d gone after her, but there were so many reasons not to go. Hanabi likely didn’t want to see her; she’d been angry at Hinata when she’d left. Also, the Village needed her. There was serious unrest in the Shinobi nations with the Akatsuki skulking about, even though their numbers were significantly fewer. A mysterious masked man had appeared wearing an Akatsuki cloak, and now Sasuke wore one, too. Hinata needed to be here in case she was needed. Even if she could locate Hanabi, the effort would cost valuable time, and if Hinata was needed, it might cost lives. She couldn’t rest with that on her conscience. Furthermore, her presence seemed to soothe Washi and Hachidori somewhat. She’d been told that whenever she was absent, the three cats yowled pitifully and everyone living at the Hyuuga household had to leave its grounds. She couldn’t see how Karasu might even care, but perhaps it was because his brother and sister howled, too.

Hachidori wanted to go after Hanabi, and that was the reason she stalked and yowled so. The lovely midnight and violet cat was certain that it was her fault Hanabi had left them. It was Washi who had convinced her to stay. “Wait, dear one. She is not lost.”

That was true enough. Hanabi had left; she had not been kidnapped. It was safe to assume that she’d eventually come back, whenever she’d accomplished whatever she had set out to accomplish. That was the opinion Karasu had shared, and that was why, presumably, he did not seem to mind. “Relax,” the black ninja cat had told them with exasperation. “She’s strong, and if she had wanted us along she’d have brought us.”

That was definitely true. Whatever Hanabi was about, she had wanted to handle it alone. That didn’t stop Hinata from worrying about her, though. The Shinobi nations were as tense as an elastic band pulled tight. The tiniest insult was likely to make them all snap. It felt like the calm before the storm. Something had to give, and soon.

A firm rap at the door proved her point. “Come in,” she called to the visitor.

Hiashi opened the door and stood there, stoic as ever. Hinata had seen a dramatic change in her father over the past several months. She hadn’t ever known him to be scared before, but he had been ever since Hanabi left. The thought had entered her mind that perhaps he wouldn’t look quite so distraught if it had been her that disappeared, but she was ashamed as soon as she thought it. When their mother had died, she’d seen hints of his distress then. Hiashi had a tighter control over his emotions than most, but Hinata had seen that they were there, and it had triggered a change in their relationship, too. Deep down, she was sure that Hiashi would be equally as upset if Hinata had been the one to go. Sending a daughter away from the household was not the same as abandoning a daughter to the wilderness. Despite what he had said, he had not ever wished her dead.

Sometimes, she wished she had gone. Watching her usually impassive father worry himself to death wasn’t making her feel any more hopeful about Hanabi’s return. The lines in his face had deepened and his eyes were red. When he was alone in his room, he cried. She had never mentioned it, never made it apparent that she knew, but her room adjoined his and she heard it.

Men should never cry, she had decided. It was more heartbreaking when men cried. When Hiashi cried, the sound of it was maddening and threatened to be her undoing. Though there had always been issues between them in the past, Hinata did love her father, had great respect for her father, and had always wanted to see him happy.

The look on his face as he stood in the door was soul-rending. Fear. Absolute and utter terror. Her first thought was that Hanabi had died. “Father? Father, what’s wrong? Hanabi…?” She left the question hanging. She didn’t want to ask.

He shook his head slowly, but the fear was not gone. “War,” he croaked. His throat worked as he tried to smooth out the next set of words, but it failed. “We’re going to war.”

Hinata’s eyes widened. War was worrisome enough; it meant that some of them would die. She’d be losing friends. There was never a war without casualty. This was what she had worried about, what she had felt coming. It was not the war that worried her, and she knew by his face that it did not worry him either. Hanabi was still out there. Missing. That the world was going to war meant that her genin-rank sister was alone out there while the land began to crawl with enemies. The likelihood that she would return to them alive had shrunk dramatically at this development. And if a war was breaking out, the Village would need both of them on the battlefield, and no one could be spared to find her.

She didn’t think about the consequences as she flew up off of Hanabi’s bed. She ran straight into Hiashi and wrapped her arms around his back. She was scared, yes, but at that moment, it was because her father needed comfort that she had hugged him. He didn’t speak, he didn’t make a sound. All she heard was him gasping for air as his shoulders shook with sobs.

She found that it was not so hard to be strong when the stronger needed you to be.

* * *

 

With Tobi (or Madara, or whoever he was) occupied with the war, Sasuke saw his chance. The old man Homura and the old woman Koharu were the only two left alive who had taken any part in forcing Itachi to kill the Uchiha. The majority of the Shinobi available for active duty would be at the battlefield, hundreds of miles away from the Leaf Village, leaving the old buzzards unprotected. 

He stood and looked off into the distance, toward where he knew the Leaf Village lay. “Jugo, Suigetsu.” They stood and walked over to him, trying to see what he saw. They could never see what he saw, but they pretended to anyway. “We’re going to Konoha. I have one last request for you.” He turned to them both, and layered his voice with the lies they needed to hear. “Thanks for your help up until this point. When we get to the Village, I think you should turn yourselves in. What I will do there will earn me a death sentence, and I don’t want that to happen for you both.”

“Whatever you need from me, Sasuke,” Jugo murmured. “Just say the word.”

“I appreciate it, Jugo, but there are doctors and researchers there that might help you find what you’ve always wanted. They can help you.” He laid a hand on the bigger man’s shoulders. “Promise me you’ll go to them. They won’t take any pity on you if you help me do what must be done.”

Jugo’s brows creased. He didn’t want to abandon Sasuke, but he grudgingly nodded. If what Sasuke wanted was for him to leave, then he would leave.

Sasuke turned eyes to Suigetsu. The boy started. He’d been glaring at Sasuke and sought to cover it up. Karin was probably in the Leaf Village. Suigetsu was going to abandon him anyway the moment they set foot in Konoha. “Sure, Sasuke. Thanks for everything.” A lie, mostly. He’d never be forgiven in this one’s eyes for his role in losing Karin. Apparently men frown upon it when you stab their heart’s desire in the chest. Really, Suigetsu should be grateful. If Sasuke had never done that, he might have spent the rest of his life hating Karin instead.

That night, he heard them argue, and then leave. It didn’t bother him at all. He really was finished with them. Soon, he’d be dead and it wouldn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t even surprising. Suigetsu suspected Sasuke intended to level the Village. Karin was in the Village. He wanted enough time to get to her and get her out before anything drastic happened. He likely dragged Jugo along to save him from Sasuke, thinking that Sasuke would sacrifice him, too. Suigetsu hid his true nature well with the swaggers and the selfishness, but beneath it all, Suigetsu had wanted friends. Jugo was probably the best friend he’d ever had, and it was natural for him to want to protect him.

The sounds of their movement faded away, and Sasuke shut his eyes for sleep. He wouldn’t need much in the way of strength for this, but he was still recovering from other battles.

As he rested, waiting for sleep to take him, he thought of Itachi, and of home. He cursed himself a thrice over idiot for not seeing the things he’d missed on purpose, like how Itachi was crying as he left him there in the dirt. Itachi could have killed him a hundred times. He remembered the times when they used to chase ninja cats, and how many times he’d somehow gotten in the way of Itachi’s errands, and how Itachi would take him anyway. He remembered all the times when Sasuke was crying because of something their parents had said to him, something crass and undeserved, and how Itachi had convinced him that he was special and they would see that, too, someday. Despite never having time to play with him, Itachi always had time to make him feel better when it was something their parents had done. Itachi had understood when no one else had understood.

Alone in the darkness, he let the tears come. There was no one to see. No one there to observe his weakness as it streamed down his face. There were times when he allowed himself to feel sadness, but it had always been tempered with anger, and hate, as it had always been. Someone was to blame for Itachi’s doom, and it was that that he had always focused on. Right this moment, though, it was different. Alone in the dark with his thoughts and his memories, the emptiness was more real. His brother was gone. Itachi was gone, and was never coming back. The war could rage, could wax and wane, and that would not change. He could exact his vengeance on the old man and woman who had been responsible, and it wouldn’t bring Itachi back. He could punish himself and atone for his own sins—which were numerous—and yet, Itachi would still be gone. He’d never see his kind older brother again.

If he died, would he see his elder brother again? Would they laugh as they once had, and chase cats through the heavens? Would Itachi’s smile return? Would they both be happy again?

He clutched at his chest, trying to stop the pain as it swallowed him whole. The demon that resided there, feeding on his negative emotions, would never be sated. _Bask in the pain_ , it seemed to say. _Feel your madness. Let it consume you. There is no one left to care about your miserable life._ It was probably true. The war would claim the people he had considered friends. Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi were the only ones who believed he could come back to them. Naruto was the focal point of Tobi’s war; he was strong, but Tobi was stronger, and he would lose. Sakura had always been weak, and she would be killed. Kakashi’s noble intentions would surely kill him as he sought to save his only surviving student as Naruto succumbed to Tobi’s power. All of them would die.

And then?

And then, the world would be a better place, and the curse that had haunted his family since the beginning of the Shinobi world would be over, and he would have peace at long last. The miserable Shinobi world could crumble to ash for all that he cared. He would not longer be there to see it.

* * *

 

The ground trembled violently, so much so that she had to hit the ground to avoid being thrown to it instead. The ground had been trembling to varying degrees of magnitude for days. Sometimes it would shake all day. Some days went by with little of the rumbling. Something big was happening. Very big. She was only glad that she was not part of it, whatever it was.

She spared a moment’s thought for her family. Angry at them she might be, but she dearly loved her sister and cousin, and yes, even her father. She sent a silent prayer up to protect them from any harm, and willed the three ninja cats to keep them safe.

That gave her an idea.

When the trembling subsided, she stood and calmed her senses, feeling the chakra welled up inside her. Then, she bit her thumb, wove her fingers in the seals that Nekokira had taught her, and performed the summoning jutsu. The enormous black and red tiger that had given her the kittens just over a year ago appeared, a grave look on his face. His golden eyes pierced her own, seeing deep within her. “I knew you would not summon me without great cause, Hanabi. What’s troubling you?”

As if to answer for her, the ground shook again. This time she didn’t have time to prepare for it; her legs knocked and buckled, and she fell painfully to her knees. Her expression was all that he needed. He lifted his great head and strained his ears and his eyes far off in the distance. Hanabi followed the direction of his stare, but she saw nothing. “Can you see it?” Hanabi asked hopefully. “It’s been doing that for days. I don’t know what’s going on.”

The flicker in his eyes might have been anger. Hanabi did not remember the large cat as being irritable. She wondered what was going on his head. She didn’t have to wonder long. “Did you summon me to go spy for you because you’re too cowardly to go yourself?”

Hanabi’s eyes flashed. She had not summoned the tiger to insult her. “My family might be there,” she said. “I was going to ask you to make sure they’re all right.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. She wasn’t sure why his expression was so cold all of a sudden. A great change had occurred in the tiger since she had seen him last. “No,” was all he said.

When they had discussed the terms of the contract, he had made it clear that he was not required to obey her. She had not even wanted to make the contract, but he had insisted. What she asked of him was not unreasonable, so why was he being so petulant? “What’s your problem?” she snapped.

He drew himself up, towering over her like a bloody shadow. “The Shinobi Nations are at war,” he told her.

She gasped. So her family really was in danger! “Then you _have_ to go!” she cried.

He gnashed his teeth in irritation and roared in her face. She didn’t even flinch. Fearsome he might be, but he would not harm her, and both of them knew it. At the end of the roar, he rumbled into angry words. “And why is it that a Shinobi is avoiding a Shinobi war?” he accused. “Hm?”

Her face colored. The admonishment was not unwarranted. He meant to make her feel shame, and she felt it. “I did not know there was a war,” she offered quietly. “I ran away.”

“I never pegged you for a coward,” he growled. “Perhaps in giving you my young, I made a mistake. You must know that Itachi Uchiha is dead. I sent my kittens home with you because I thought you might be the one to save him. I guess I was wrong. Are both of them there, at that war that does not concern them, just as you grovel in the dirt and beg me for help?” He cocked his head to the side, indicating the great battle that must be taking place, just as another tremor shook the earth.

If the great Patriarch of Ninja Cats had meant to hurt her, he’d succeeded. A pang of guilt stabbed through her just as the tears sprang to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He slid into motion, stalking back and forth, much like Hachidori sometimes did, his fury as palpable as Karasu’s. “Protect your own damned family,” he snarled at her. “I’ll go protect mine.” With another shattering roar, he sprang into a run and headed out toward the battlefield, leaving her quivering upon the earth.

The trembling subsided once again, and with Nekokira gone, she felt alone, cold, and lost. She had no idea where Sasuke was, and had been searching for months. She rarely was able to eat, and what she could eat was mostly stolen or beggared. She’d lost weight, and she had never had much to begin with. She felt weak, tired, and lonely, and was beginning to wish that she’d only been patient enough to wait around for a day, forgive Hinata, and stay at home. She wasn’t even sure any longer if she could find Sasuke, let alone defeat him.

There was nothing to do. She curled up in a ball and wept. She tried to imagine what Hinata would do if she was here, and pretended she could feel her sister’s smooth, soft hands rubbing her shivering shoulders and whispering that it would be all right. She imagined her father’s stern expression as he told her to get up; he’d always hated it when Hanabi fell down, and had pushed her to her feet even when she no longer had the strength to continue.

So, sniffling and shaking with exhaustion and sorrow, she pushed herself to her feet. Her knees quivered from the aftershocks that had wracked the earth. She drew her body up and took a deep breath. Like it or not, she was here. If Itachi was here, he’d have something wise to say. Perhaps he’d tell her to follow through. Be strong, maybe. She considered all that he had been through to achieve his goals, and it made her feel marginally better. If he could handle all the pain and suffering that he had gone through and still be able to spare her a smile and a huge, then surely she could stop her crying and continue.

For a moment, she was certain that thinking of Itachi had brought him back to life. There he was, staring at her, emotionless eyes trying to place her. “Hinata?” he asked quietly.

His voice broke her from her whimsy, and she realized that she was not looking at Itachi. She hissed, knowing immediately that she’d finally seen Sasuke. Her body didn’t respond. She wanted to leap at him, to scream at him, but she didn’t. He wasn’t at all like she had imagined. It didn’t make any sense; she should have guessed, since they were brothers, but the notion had never taken root in her brain that he would look just like him. So she did nothing. 

“No,” the young man mused. “You aren’t Hinata. Younger. Hair’s different. The younger sister, then.” He barked a laugh, a humorless sound. “I never knew her name.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

She supposed he did that to appear confident. Her time working with Inoichi taught her different. Crossing the arms was an involuntary reaction to protect oneself. “Hanabi,” she told him, giving him nothing else.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked. His body language spoke volumes, but his face was well schooled. He had learned to hide his emotions as well. He shared more in common with Itachi than he could have known. She raked her eyes over him, judging the rest. His muscles were well-honed. His posture was relaxed but ready, a stance she remembered from Itachi, always a fraction of a second from being prepared to kill. His hair was messier; Itachi had kept his gathered away from his face, but Sasuke’s was ragged, unkempt. He didn’t seem to care much for his appearance.

She saw no reason to lie. “Yes.”

His eyes narrowed. “Does that have something to do why you’re out here, alone?”

She recognized the danger immediately. She readied herself for the attack that might come, relaxing her muscles and grasping for the chakra that waited for her command. Itachi had never prepared her for fighting his brother. Something about those eyes might kill her. _They make people see what I want them to see_ , he’d said. She might not stand a chance.

He sensed her hesitation. “Don’t,” he warned. “I’ve already got you.”

She swallowed and didn’t move. With her gaze locked on his, and his eyes now undeniably red slashed with the black patterns of his family, she knew he was not lying. This man had killed Itachi; he wouldn’t make idle threats. “What do you want from me?” she asked, trying to quell the fear that rose. She was ashamed at how easily she’d been ensnared, and how small her voice sounded.

He smirked. “You’re afraid. That’s good.” He began walking toward her, one slow, deliberate step at a time. He wore a sword at his hip, but he made no move to use it. “Move, attempt to attack me, and I will make you wish you were never born. These eyes of mine can make your worst nightmares seem true. I can kill you, and you’d never know it. Right now, outside of this illusion, I hold my knife to your throat. Now, give me one good reason why I should not kill you.” He stopped moving about two feet from her, arms still across his chest.

Coming this close to her had been a mistake. She would not attack; it was not a wise choice. Already trapped in his genjutsu, he could kill her with a thought. But up close, she could read the hints in his expression that he might not want her to see, and all she needed to do was ask the right questions to see them. “I will talk,” she told him. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”

She grinned. “I’m not. I came here to kill you,” she told him, her heart yammering in her chest, “but I can’t. I submit.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “You submit.” It wasn’t a question, just an incredulous statement of fact. “You came here to kill me, and you submit. Are you trying to waste my time?”

“No.”

“Did Naruto send you?” His lips firmed into a thin frown.

She blinked. “Why would Naruto send me?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“Nevermind.” He walked in a slow circle around her, as if considering what to do with his new charge. “No one sent you. You came here to kill me. You submit.” He repeated all of her admissions back to her, weighing every one. “The only question is…why did you come here to kill me then? And why did you change your mind?”

“Will you release me from this genjutsu first?”

He came to a stop in front of her face again. “No, I don’t think I will.” He sneered. “I’m not known for being a fool.”

She smiled sadly. “That doesn’t surprise me,” she said, more to herself than anything. “You remind me of my brother… the brother that you killed.”

“Ah,” he said bitterly. “Revenge, a goal I can understand.” His demeanor relaxed, and she noticed. “Perhaps we might understand each other after all, Hanabi Hyuuga. Although, you’re wrong. I do not kill without reason, and I can count the number of people I have killed on one hand. You’re not related to any of them. Sorry to disappoint you.”

She switched tactics. Letting Sasuke believe she had simply made a mistake might work in her favor. “I might be mistaken,” she admitted. “I did not see who killed him, but I was told that you had.” It was the truth, even if it was bent. “Let me join you then.”

“No,” he told her simply. “I am alone.”

“I am, too.”

Sasuke surveyed the girl. He had absolutely no reason to make a connection with another Shinobi, especially not one from a rival clan within the Leaf Village. What if this was her purpose all along, to have her join his cause and assassinate him? Why was she somehow away from the war while her family risked their lives to save Naruto and the ninja world as they knew it?

Had her brother been that important to her?

 _Itachi…_ Having grieved himself to sleep the night before, he felt vulnerable. Perhaps it also had something to do with resigning himself to death. Maybe it was because Jugo and Suigetsu had left him and his other so-called friends were too busy locked in a fight to the death to even care about him anymore. Maybe it was a combination of everything, but for the first time in as long as he could remember, he found that he actually might want company. He was going to die anyway. Did it really matter when?

He didn’t answer her, but he released the Genjutsu. She swallowed when she realized he had not been kidding about holding a kunai to her delicate throat, but he returned the knife to its holster and stepped back. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” he grumbled aloud.

“Because,” she told him honestly, “you feel like you’re dying inside, too.” She rubbed her throat, the feeling that she had probably almost died subsiding. She’d been in plenty enough missions to be used to the feeling. Sasuke was allowing her to travel with him, for now. Maybe that would give her enough time to talk herself into killing him after all.

As they walked, her thoughts drifted back to Nekokira and his behavior. He’d been right. She hadn’t done anything to warrant his help. She’d even abandoned the kittens when she left the Leaf Village. She couldn’t protect Itachi or the rest of her family, and she couldn’t even resist her own impatience.  She felt like a fool for considering that he might even want to help her His angry words resounded in her memory. _I sent my kittens home with you because I thought you might be the one to save him. I guess I was wrong. Are both of them there, at that war that does not concern them, just as you grovel in the dirt and beg me for help?_

_Are both of them there, at that war…?_

_Both of them._

Both. As in two.

“Something wrong?” Sasuke asked her over his shoulder, neither slowing nor stopping. “If you can’t keep up, I’ll just leave you behind.”


	25. My Brother

Timeline: 9 years 3 months post-massacre

* * *

 

Ibiki shifted uncomfortably in Inoichi’s chair. It chafed him that there was a war going on—not a battle, but an all-out war—and he was left behind. He understood the reasons for it, but he didn’t have to like it. There were prisoners here that needed to be guarded, and in case for some reason an attack came to Konoha, someone needed to be here to protect the citizens that had remained behind. He’d moved to Inoichi’s office for convenience, more than anything. If anyone needed the Konoha Intelligence Division.

Inoichi had, of course, been assigned to the Allied Shinobi Forces Intelligence Division, and from all reports, they were benefiting from his experience. All to the good. His newest prisoner, Karin, had yet to divulge any useful information. He visited her daily to grill her with questions. She had plenty to talk about, but none of it was helpful. She was, however, cooperative and friendly, and so he hesitated to use any suggestive techniques.

It was too difficult not to think of the war, though. Reports of casualties came every day. The chunin in charge of relaying the news tried to avoid him, and he didn’t blame the lad. No one wanted to deliver bad news, and no one wanted to deliver it to Ibiki. A few more reports, a few more names, and Ibiki wouldn’t be able to help himself. He couldn’t sit here and hear about the comrades he was losing while he was safe from harm.

He tapped his fingers impatiently on Inoichi’s notebook. The texts that he had been reading when the war began were neatly stacked against a far wall. Ibiki had had them moved. The dust made his nose itch. Any minute now, the daily report would arrive. The suspense was painful. It wasn’t that he wanted to know who was dead. He just needed the information.

That’s what he told himself.

Finally, just when he was ready to track down the poor fellow with the scroll and shake the news from him, a soft knock echoed throughout the small office. “Enter!” he barked gruffly, his patience exhausted. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sat up straighter, as the door was pushed open. The boy that had been bringing him news was not the one in the doorway. It was a different kid. His name was Raime. He was known for being cool-headed and calm, partially desensitized to death. He’d also spent some time working at the hospital in the trauma wing before he transferred here, which explained a lot of the coldness. Death didn’t affect him all that badly. It was a wonder that they had not assigned him this duty already.

But today, he wasn’t his usually calm and cool self. His mouth twisted, and he avoided Ibiki’s eyes. “Uh… um…”

Ibiki knew immediately that something was wrong. A cold knot formed in his stomach, one he could not ignore. Despite that, the chunin needed to remember his sense of protocol, and Ibiki was his superior. “Raime!” he snapped. “Look into my eyes. And report!”

Raime’s eyes snapped to attention, and he straightened. “Yes, sir!” Even so, Ibiki noticed that his gaze was locked above Ibiki’s head, and not on it. “The report from the battlefield, sir!”

“Get on with it, Raime, and get back to your post.”

The young man swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled the words forth. After hearing it, Ibiki gave him credit for finishing. It was no wonder that the news had taken so long to reach him, and why his usual lackey had not been the one to deliver it. “Ibiki, it is to my great sorrow that I must report… a bijuu bomb from the newly resurrected Ten-Tails struck the headquarters of the Allied Forces Intelligence Division. It is not likely that anyone survived. Inoichi Yamanaka and Shikaku Nara were known to be inside.” He took a deep breath, and his voice broke on the next sentence. “Other reports… say that the two of them contacted their children via telepathy… to… tell them goodbye.”

Ibiki’s eyes fell to the notebook beneath his hands. “Dismissed,” he croaked.

“I’m very sorry, Ibiki,” Raime mumbled, attempting to console him. “We all—“

“Dismissed,” he repeated, glaring at him sidelong.

He hesitated, wanting to say more, but he bowed briefly. “Yes sir.” He took his leave.

Inoichi and Shikaku. Konoha had suffered a great loss with them both. Shikaku was one of the most brilliant minds to have ever blessed their village. His son, Shikamaru, showed similar promise. Both of them possessed the ability to strategize and think far ahead of any opponent they had ever met. They were tremendous assets to the village, and the cleverness between father and son had saved countless lives already. And Inoichi Yamanaka had been one of his best friends. He was wise, calm, and generous, a suberb leader, and one of few men Ibiki could actually name friend. He’d been instrumental in forming the Konoha Intelligence Division. He’d helped Ibiki get his job. They’d trusted each other, helped each other, drank together on rare occasion.

He’d miss him.

A soft tap on his other hand alerted him. His gaze swung to his left, and there, sitting upon the desk with his tail swishing back and forth was the white cat they called Washi. He looked deep into the cat’s green eyes. Why on earth was the Hyuuga girl’s cat here? His eyes were mesmerizing, deep and far older than the rest of the cat. “She’s not here, Cat,” he said brusquely, trying to brush the cat’s soft little white paw off of his hand. He tried to remember what he could of this one. He had thought that the three of them were the same, but that wasn’t really fair. Three ninjas were never exactly the same, so it made sense that three ninja cats were not as well. Hadn’t Hanabi kept the black one in quarantine so he didn’t kill anyone else, after all? Washi the Invisible, they called this one. How had he gotten in here, anyway?

“I came here to see you, Ibiki Morino,” the smooth, masculine voice said gently. “I’m very sorry about your friend.”

He stared at the cat. “Did you really come here to express your sympathy?”

The cat removed its paw. “No, I did not. I came here to speak with you about the matter of Itachi Uchiha.”

“Everyone seems to be interested in him these days,” Ibiki grumbled.

Washi was not amused. “You knew,” Washi murmured. It was not a question. “You knew about Itachi’s situation. I was not aware that another knew. This changes much.”

Ibiki blink. “How is it that _you_ knew?”

The cat did not smile, nor answer. Instead he continued. “It is long past time for the truth to be revealed. Come. There is much to prepare.” The cat jumped off the desk and landed lightly and silently on its toes.

“You seem to know a lot of information for a cat that was hardly a puff of fuzz a year ago,” Ibiki said suspiciously. “How is it that _you_ know?”

“Because,” Washi said pleasantly. “I’m not a cat.” He explained briefly who he truly was, and Ibiki’s eyes went wide.

“You!” Ibiki cried in amazement. Washi smiled. Ibiki pocketed Inoichi’s notebook, the only existing relic of their friendship, before he rose from the chair and followed the cat-that-was-not-a-cat. Perhaps there was something that could be done after all.

 _I want his name on that rock, Ibiki,_ Inoichi had said, right after the flame had gone out. He didn’t need to see his blue eyes, though, to imagine the Will of Fire that burned brightly in them.

 _I’ll put it there, Inoichi_ , he thought, _even if I have to carve it into the damn rock myself._

* * *

 

“This is the way to Konoha,” Hanabi warned.

“Yes,” Sasuke said.

“Aren’t you a rogue ninja?”

“Yes.”

“So… won’t they arrest you?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

She shrugged. “Just seems kind of counterintuitive to walk to a place that wants you dead.” He didn’t answer. “What are you going to do when you get there?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She hastened her steps until she was walking next to him. “What do you want to talk about, then?” she asked him.

His eyebrows drew together with annoyance. “I don’t want to talk.” His rage was building again. Already he regretted allowing her to come along. Perhaps he should kill her and be done with it.

She pouted. It was not an answer she liked. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to kill him or if she was bored enough to try to talk to him. He looked remarkably like Itachi, though, and it kept her just fascinated enough to want to know about him. “What was your brother like?” she asked instead. He shot her an angry glare. “You had a brother, didn’t you?”

He hesitated, the sorrow welling up inside him, drowning the demon that stalked there. “Don’t talk about my brother,” he warned her quietly.

“Why not?”

He snapped. “Would you knock it off with all the questions, already? I said I didn’t want to talk about it.” He increased his pace and pulled ahead of her.

She stopped for a second, gauging his reaction. Sasuke might look a lot like Itachi, but they were clearly very different people. Where Itachi had been gentle, sweet, and mostly quiet, Sasuke was irascible and moody. She tried a different approach. “I’ll tell you about my brother,” she said.

“You mean the one I supposedly killed?” he asked irritably.

“Yes,” she answered. “He taught me the Shadow Clone jutsu, and how to throw kunai. I even learned how to throw kunai differently by hitting it with a modified version of my Rotation, and you know what he did?” She waited for him to ask, but he didn’t. She continued anyway. “He yelled at me.” She got the sense that his ears actually pricked up at that, and she also noticed that the hastened pace that he’d adopted slowed, and before long he was walking next to her again, watching her out of the corner of his eye. “He told me that that was cheating, and that the reason he wanted me to learn to throw kunai was for when I ran out of chakra. He was smart, my brother was.”

“My brother was like that,” Sasuke said quietly. She didn’t think he’d meant to say anything directly to her, merely that he was making a connection.

“My brother loved his family,” she went on. “He was usually pretty busy, but whenever he wasn’t, he did his best to spend time with me. Whenever he was gone, he made sure that someone was there to watch over me, to protect me in case anything happened.” She watched his face carefully.

Sasuke listened to her words, and try as he might, he couldn’t keep them from affecting him. He rather wished she’d quit talking. Hanabi’s brother sounded a lot like Itachi. He thought about what Tobi had told him about Itachi doing everything he had done to make sure that Sasuke survived. He let her talk, though, and as she spoke, he understood why she had abandoned the Shinobi war to come avenge her brother. They were much the same, he and this young girl.

“He was the best ninja,” she said with adoration. “And he liked cats.”

 _He was a perfect ninja_ , Sasuke thought, _and he_ loved _cats._

“He held me when I cried because my father was too hard on me.”

_He hugged me tight when I cried because our father was too harsh with me._

“And now he’s gone,” she finished, “and I never even got to say goodbye.”

“I killed my brother,” Sasuke breathed, his voice tight with pain. His eyes widened, and he glanced at her. But he had said it out loud, and it had needed to be said. By her expression, she had known. “I killed my own brother,” he said, his voice breaking. “He’s gone, and it’s because I killed him.” His vision blurred, and the pain in his chest overwhelmed him.

“I know, Sasuke,” she whispered as she grasped his hand. “And I know how you feel. It wasn’t you that killed my brother.” Her pale lavender eyes met his black ones. “It was me.” She could have saved him. She could have helped him get better, helped him stay hidden, and someday cleared his name. If she’d have acted sooner, if she’d have talked to Inoichi sooner… but it was too late. The fault might not have all been upon her, but she felt the guilt as keenly as the pain.

They walked together, hand in hand. Sasuke’s expression looked confused to Hanabi. His mind was reeling. He’d never opened up to another human being before. He’d never talked about his feelings. He had forbade anyone from talking about Itachi in his presence, but there was something about Hanabi that made him want to share. All of his life he’d told people that they could never understand what it was like to lose their family, and yet here she was. He stared at their fingers, intertwined. It was oddly comforting. Part of him wanted to take his hand back—the part with the demon of rage and hatred—but the sad part of him liked the contact.

* * *

 

She had been watching her toes as she walked, lost in thought about Itachi and what she had really lost since he’d died. After everything he had done for her… the training, the ninja cats that she thought of as friends—yes, even unwieldy Karasu—the hugs and the love… Itachi had made her feel special.

Holding Sasuke’s hand was… different. He wasn’t as warm as Itachi. Itachi had pulled her in for hugs as easily as breathing. His voice was even soft; it had always instantly soothed her as soon as she’d heard it. Sasuke was cold, distant. He held her hand too tightly, like he’d never done such a thing before, or like he needed her to never let go. He was brash and raw. They were so alike in many ways, but different, too.

And that was where her thoughts were when Sasuke stopped, squeezed her hand, and let go. She looked up from her toes and followed his gaze to where he was looking. Ahead of them were two familiar shapes, one black, one blue. Sasuke tensed as if preparing for a battle.

“Sasuke Uchiha,” Hachidori purred. “Our parents have told us so much about you.”

Karasu looked… extraordinarily pleased. “Yes,” he purred—purred! As soon as Karasu was past his kitten stage, he’d hardly liked anyone, was quick to anger, and utterly impossible to control. He grinned at them both now, positively beaming with joy. “Sasuke Uchiha, Itachi’s younger brother!” He bounded toward them, his sleek muscles rippling as he moved.

Beside her, Sasuke shoved her behind his back and prepared to battle.

In response, she shoved him behind her back and glared at him. Much to her surprise, he actually relented. “You know them?” he asked, reading her expression.

“Yes, I know them,” she told him carefully. “My brother asked the Patriarch of Ninja Cats to grant me a ninja kitten for my tenth birthday.” She smiled sweetly at him, knowing the moment of revelation was nigh. Soon Sasuke would know the truth about her. “The Patriarch gave me three.”

Sasuke blinked. “The Patriarch? Ninja Cats?” She nodded. He turned his attention back to the black mass of fur that was hurtling toward him, as if trying to figure it all out.

“Relax,” she told him, laying a hand upon his arm. “They are not here to hurt us.”

“Not you, maybe,” he muttered. The ninja cats might have every reason to want to hurt him. They had liked both him and Itachi. Had they heard about what either of them had done?

Sure enough, just before he reached them, Karasu broke into a happy dance around Sasuke.

A happy dance. Around Sasuke.

It was time for Hanabi to be confused. “Karasu? What are you doing?”

Karasu’s toothy grin broadened at her, but it was Hachidori who answered. “Father didn’t want us to say anything,” she murmured apologetically. “When Father heard the request, he changed it somewhat. After all, Itachi had asked for a kitten for your birthday, and Father didn’t think it was right for him to forget his little brother.”

Next to her, Sasuke made a strangled sound. “Excuse me?”

Karasu giggled. It was a very strange sound to come from a cat—this cat, in particular. His yellow eyes blinked open, his face a mask of pure bliss. “I’m your kitty!” He leapt up and danced on his hind legs, putting both paws on Sasuke’s shoulders.

Hanabi watched his face very carefully. First he was shocked. Then, he looked troubled. Finally, all his emotions gave way to something he had not felt in years: happiness. “I’ve got a kitty?” he asked quietly. The voice that she had come to know as cold and toneless, sometimes angry took on a richer quality. She liked it better.

“Nyaa!” Karasu agreed.

He smiled and scratched the fierce black cat behind his ears. Karasu purred loudly.

Hachidori sidled up to Hanabi and rubbed against her leg. “I have always and will always be yours, Princess,” she murmured with a smile. Hanabi smiled back and petted her.

Suddenly, though, Sasuke’s face sobered, and he looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “That one said that Itachi requested a kitten. For you.”

“That one has a name,” she replied testily. “This is Hachidori, and that is Karasu.” His face remained impassive. “And yes, it was Itachi who requested them as favors from Nekokira.”

“He’s Nekomata’s brother,” Karasu offered helpfully. “Most humans do not know who he is, because he almost never comes to your lands.”

Black eyes watched her. Waiting for an explanation. “When I was three years old,” she began, “I was lost. I found a boy there, younger than you are now, lying in the dirt. All I remember is that he was very sad. He missed his brother, and he said he couldn’t see him. He was nice to me, and he helped me find my way back home.”

“’I want you to have it, so you won’t ever forget me,’” she whispered. “That was what I said to him when I gave it to him. It was a necklace that I’d made with my sister late one night. It was a thin, black cord linking together three silver rings that looked like eyes.”

Sasuke wasn’t sure he trusted her. She could have seen a picture of that in the Bingo book.

“Itachi was my brother,” she said to him gently. “Adopted.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said. He couldn’t. Itachi had been his brother, and he was too selfish to share his memory with anyone. Why should she have been able to see him and know him as he really was while Sasuke suffered in solitude?

“We have to go now,” Hachidori urged. “Washi told us not to dally.”

“Who is Washi?” Sasuke asked, overwhelmed by all of the information.  

“The third kitten,” Hanabi said grimly, “though he might not be what he seems. I’m beginning to get the feeling that I’ve been had."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Usually I kill Sasuke. I don’t really like him all that much, and I wish he’d just die…? But then, as a writer, sometimes you don’t get to choose those kinds of things. My story said otherwise, and so here we are. 
> 
> Alright... who do you think Washi is? :-O


	26. Washi's Ploy

Timeline: 9 years 4 months post-massacre

* * *

 

Tsunade looked between them, anger bubbling up out of her exhaustion. “You two had better not be wasting my time,” she snipped out. “The remaining handful of our forces are trickling back as we speak. Everyone is tired and emotionally drained. I don’t really have time for this. Why does this have to be now?”

Hanabi kept her eyes lowered, waiting for her chance to speak. Despite her power and position in the Intel Division, she was still a genin, technically. Ibiki’s eyes remained trained on his superior, however. He would be speaking for both of them today. “With all due respect, Lady Hokage, we believe this matter requires immediate attention. It concerns Sasuke Uchiha.”

Tsunade took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She was sick to death of the matter of Sasuke Uchiha. They’d deal with him later. For now, she didn’t have the energy or the time. So much needed to happen now that the war was over. Sasuke could wait. “I don’t have time for this. Sasuke has been absent from Konoha for years. A few more days for rest won’t kill anyone.”

“It might kill Sasuke,” Hanabi peeped in a small voice.

Tsunade’s gaze shifted to the growing young woman. She was glad that Hanabi Hyuuga had returned unharmed. Her family would rejoice to hear it in the wake of Neji’s death. That, at least, was one less headache to deal with in the coming weeks. “How might it do that?” she pressed, irritated.

“Well, he’s here now,” she informed her.

Tsunade’s hands fell to her desktop. She stared at the girl. “Did I hear you correctly?”

“Yes, Lady Hokage,” Ibiki answered for her. “He returned to the village of his own free will at the same time that Hanabi came back. There is a lot going on that we should discuss.”

“Alright, you’ve got my attention,” she said. “I’ll just cancel my appointments today.”

* * *

 

Deep within the heart of Konoha in a room usually only reserved for ANBU meetings, a small circle of Shinobi were gathered to hear the cases of Sasuke and Itachi Uchiha.

Tsunade was there. Her status as fifth Hokage would serve as one of three votes toward whatever decision was made regarding the two. Naruto was there, having been named the sixth Hokage days before by Tsunade herself. His bias was a concern, however, so as the third vote, Shikamaru was chosen. His calm disposition and intelligence was widely accepted as a credible source of insight. Furthermore, his father had died in a war that was largely founded on the ancient hatred between Uchiha and Senju. He wasn’t going to let Sasuke off easily, and he’d also lost much to the Akatsuki, including his sensei, Asuma. His countenance was stony; he’d never taken much seriously up until this point, but Shikamaru was far more serious about things now.

Also there to provide advice were Ibiki, Kakashi, Hiashi, Shizune, Sakura, Gai, Kurenai, Iruka, two unnamed ANBU, Yamato, and the head of ANBU, whoever that was. That made 3 decision makers and 12 council members to hear the case. All of the rookie sensei had been chosen, since they knew Sasuke and something of his relationship with their students. Ibiki represented the Intelligence Division and was there to observe Sasuke and see if he spoke the truth. Hiashi was there because Hanabi was heavily involved. Sakura was there as his former teammate, and because her unyielding faith in him might help his case. Iruka was there as their former teacher from when they were kids. ANBU was there to provide an unbiased opinion from a safety standpoint, as was their captain and Yamato. Shizune was there because she was close to Tsunade and Tsunade trusted her advice.

The remaining elders, Koharu and Homura, had not been told about this council. Their advice was not wanted, and since a lot of what was going to be discussed today was their role in the events, they were excluded. Tsunade was fine with this; the elders had been nothing but trouble lately and she was tired of their games. Surely, she’d hear about this later, but she’d deal with it when the time came.

Hanabi was the only one who was not included in the decision making process. She could state and defend her case for the two Uchiha brothers, but that was all. The fifteen older Shinobi sat in chairs around an oblong table. Her and Sasuke stood off to the side and waited to be called upon.

Tsunade presided. “We are meeting today to discuss the fate of Sasuke Uchiha, and the legacy of his older brother, Itachi Uchiha,” she told everyone gathered. “As everyone should know, Itachi was accused of murdering his entire clan, minus Sasuke, nearly ten years ago. It is known that he did it. The question at hand is ‘why did he do it?’ This girl, Hanabi Hyuuga, would have you believe that he was ordered to do so. Hanabi?”

Sixteen sets of eyes were upon her, with Sasuke’s. Slowly, she looked into each set in turn. It was hard to look at the ANBU, though, since they wore their masks to council—all except Yamato. She met her father’s gaze across the table. His disapproval was palpable. He’d only just learned of her fraternization with Itachi, and he was not pleased in the slightest. It was him that she was most determined to convince; she knew him the best of anyone at the table, and knew he’d be the hardest to convince. That gave her a reasonable goal. She recognized the blonde man in the white jacket as Naruto, her sister’s heartthrob. His gaze was intense, needing to hear her testimony. Ibiki’s lips twitched when she looked at him. _Go get ‘em, Hyuuga,_ she could almost hear him say. They’d been working closely together on this since she and Sasuke had returned, preparing for this moment.

“Friends,” she began softly. “What is a Shinobi? When you look into your hearts to see who you will be…who do you see? When you think of a hero…whose name do you hear? The Third Hokage, who gave his life to protect the Village Hidden in the Leaves from Orochimaru and the threat of the Sound? The Fourth Hokage, who sacrificed his life for the Village and gave the power of a legend to his infant son to protect us in the future? The Fifth Hokage, who guided us through the Akatsuki threat and during this war?” She paused for effect. “Perhaps the Sixth Hokage, who possesses, some say, a singular ability to inspire virtually anyone to do his utmost to protect those that he loves.”

She scanned the group. Their attention was rapt. Whether or not they would agree with her was a complete mystery, but they were listening. “I think anyone here would agree that Itachi was a superb Shinobi during the time that he was here. He exceeded expectations. None questioned his dedication to this Village and the people within it. Itachi was a true Shinobi.

“I met him when I was three years old,” she said, lowering the volume of her voice again. She lowered her eyes, not wanting Hiashi’s reaction to throw off her narrative. “I had run away from home because I was upset that my father wanted me to spar with my sister. Itachi helped me find my way home, and made me promise to fight with my sister so that both of us would get stronger and be able to protect each other. He could have killed me, but he did not, and in doing so he trusted me not to tell anyone that I had seen him.

“I saw him again after my father sent Hinata away. I was upset and hated my father. Itachi came back to see how I was doing. When he heard why I was upset, he reminded me that I had said I would not tolerate anyone getting between my sister and I. It was the next day that I awakened my Byakugan. With it, I saw my mother grieving in her garden, and I went to her. It is because of Itachi that I improved upon my relationship with her, where before I had mostly avoided her because she was sick.

“When next we met I was stricken with grief. My mother had died, and I had no one to go to. My sister was grieving more than I was and my father was in isolation. I needed to be away from it all, so I begged Itachi to take me with him when he left. He wouldn’t. He assumed I’d get hurt and that my father would come looking for me. Someone would get hurt. Eventually, though, he let me leave with him for a little while. Before we left he taught me the Shadow Clone jutsu so that no one would worry. He taught me how to throw a kunai three different ways, and when I cheated and used my chakra, he chastised me severely and lectured me on chakra exhaustion and taijutsu. During our trip he taught me important lessons to survive. He taught me to use my head to think things through, and he forced me through scenarios that tested my instincts, my trust, my reflexes, and my speed.” She relayed the full story about the giant fake snake in Training Area 17. Throughout it all, they listened and said nothing.

“We made a promise to see each other each year, but the following year he did not return. I had thought he’d forgotten me, but in his place he’d sent a raven to protect me. You knew this Raven as my companion, Inu, who helped me train. On my tenth birthday, Itachi returned and dismissed the Raven, but he had another surprise. Itachi had asked his old friend Nekomata to grant me a ninja kitten to be my friend and comrade in battles. He had known he was dying and had hoped to leave someone behind who would keep me safe. I was granted three kittens, and you all know them as Washi the Invisible, Karasu the Terror, and Hachidori the Adorable. Without them, I would not be as strong as I am now. I would be dead.”

She took a few steps back to give herself some space. This next part was a gamble, but she had a feeling it was going to work. The last time she had seen Nekokira, he was every bit a ferocious tiger and not at all her friend. She needed him for this. “I was introduced to Nekokira, the brother of Nekomata the ninja cat. He is the Patriarch of Ninja Cats, and I signed his summoning scroll.” She bit her thumb and made the signs, summoning Nekokira. In a great puff of white smoke, the huge red-striped black tiger appeared, drawn to his full height. Around the room, eyes bulged and jaws gaped, but still they said nothing.

He regarded the room with curiosity, then turned his gaze upon her. “I must admit, Hanabi, I think you might at last have summoned me for the task I had hoped that you would.” His eyes twinkled with merriment.

She grinned broadly back to the great cat. The council was murmuring amongst themselves now, thrown by the turn of events. “I am glad you think so, sir, and I think you’re correct,” she said happily. “I introduce you to 15 of the finest Shinobi, and here—“ she waved her arm to indicate Sasuke, “is Sasuke Uchiha, Itachi’s younger brother.”

Nekokira eyed each and every person in the room before he spoke again. “Karasu?” he asked her. She nodded, understanding immediately that he was wondering if Sasuke had accepted his gift. “Washi?” he asked second.

She smirked, and he smiled toothily in response. This was their gambit. She could see in his deep, golden eyes that he understood what they were about in this chamber. As if summoned himself, the white cat sauntered out of the shadows, ageless eyes glimmering with mischief.

Naruto stood from his chair. “How did he get in here?” he asked too loudly, both palms pressed flat against the table.

The white cat’s old, green eyes locked on Naruto’s blues, and the young man sat down with a thud as if commanded. Washi cocked his head to the side and smiled happily. “They don’t call me Washi the Invisible for nothing, after all.”

Hanabi stood straight, her friends flanking her. Nekokira stood at her right shoulder, and Washi stood much lower at her left. Sasuke hovered between them. It was not yet his turn. Nekokira addressed the council. “I am Nekokira, Patriarch of Ninja Cats, what some may call king,” his voice boomed. “Your ANBU captain, who commands three tigers, was my ward, weren’t you, kitten?”

The ANBU captain stood from his chair and bowed toward the tiger. “It has been many years, Father,” he said, his voice rich with respect. “It brings me happiness to see you looking so well.”

“Will you tell your comrades the laws of ninja cats, so that they may hear me speak without fetters?”

The ANBU captain bowed to him again and obeyed. “Ninja Cats may hear and speak only the truth, and are beholden unto no laws but their own. They may not attain a name until tested by cats or given to a Shinobi. There are other laws, but none of them pertain to humans in any way.” He bowed again and took his seat.

Nekokira continued, “Itachi was one of a very few Shinobi to ever be considered by cat kind to be a friend. Itachi was told to kill his family. This is known among the ninja cats. You know I can speak only truth.” He paused. “I can see, though, by your expressions that you still doubt.” He grinned. “Washi?”

The white cat strode forward, green eyes alight with excitement. Then, he shut his eyes, and _shifted_ , gaining a tremendous expansion in size and a bulkier shape. When the transformation was finished, the white cat was gone. In his place was a large ape with deep wrinkles, serene yellow eyes, and a wild mane of white hair. The ANBU members gasped. Some of the other Shinobi gathered seemed to have a clue who he was as well. It was Kakashi who spoke, however. “Monkey King Enma,” he said slowly, and with reverence.

“Yes,” his gravelly voice responded. “I am Enma. Hiruzen Sarutobi and I were close friends. We fought hundreds of battles together. Sarutobi… was a true Shinobi.” Around the table, there were murmurs of agreement. Hanabi watched the Monkey King with interest. She had learned of his identity several days before, but she had never seen Enma in person. How he had masqueraded as a ninja cat was amazing, and she had deep respect for the scheme that he and Nekokira had devised. “As Sarutobi’s friend, he and I often debated matters that concerned the village. He had great respect for my opinion. I knew about the plot to murder the Uchiha clan. The plan was initiated by Danzo Shimura, and backed up by Sarutobi’s friends, Koharu and Homura. Sarutobi himself opposed the measure, especially when Danzo recommended Itachi for the mission, who had been a double agent for both the Uchiha clan and the Hokage for several months. It had been Sarutobi’s wish that Itachi be made Hokage when he was old enough to be accepted by his peers.”

The surprise this time was palpable. Naruto choked out “Hokage?!?” as Tsunade’s brow furrowed with concern. Around the table there were worried whispers. No one had considered that possibility.

Enma locked eyes with the new Hokage. “Yes, Naruto Uzumaki. Itachi was more than capable, and to Itachi, the Village always came first. Sarutobi had all of his hopes pinned on Itachi to mend the rift between the Senju and Uchiha clans by making him Hokage.” He dropped Naruto’s gaze and continued his tale. “The four elders were still in open discussion about what was to be done about the betrayal of the Uchiha clan, but Danzo got to Itachi first. He warned Itachi that, if action was not taken, the whole clan would have to be eliminated, and he used Itachi’s little brother as a fulcrum to force Itachi to do it himself in order to save the boy. That was a lie that Danzo used to eradicate what he believed was a major threat to Konoha, and in doing so he laid the blame solely on Itachi’s young shoulders. Since the talks were mostly secret, the truth would die with the elders, and even if Itachi hadn’t expressed a desire that Sarutobi conceal the truth from Sasuke, no one would have believed Itachi anyway. What’s worse, Danzo intended to kill Sasuke himself as soon as he could find a way to get away with it. Danzo was collecting Sharingan.”

Sasuke chose that moment to interject. “It’s true. I fought Danzo. He had Sharingan eyeballs embedded in his arms. One of them was Shisui’s.”

“That’s a lie!” Hanabi’s father shot back.

“Is it?” Sasuke asked him, his voice deadly quiet. “And how would you know that?”

Hiashi didn’t answer, but his face burned with hate. Hanabi was losing hope that her father might agree to this.

Enma continued. “Itachi was coerced into the Uchiha massacre by Danzo,” he repeated. “And he did it to protect his little brother and the Leaf Village, which he naively was convinced was in danger. He killed them to protect you, and your children, from his own family. When Sarutobi, who had been the only one among the elders of Konoha who wished to protect Itachi, was killed, I knew that Itachi’s cause was lost. It was when Nekomata heard what Itachi had done that he and Nekokira approached me. The Uchiha brothers, Sasuke and Itachi, had been precious to the ninja cats, and they begged me to tell them the truth, and then to help them make peace. They wanted me to save Itachi and Sasuke from the horrors they’d soon face, and they had hoped that I would be able to stop the two from killing each other. The love between Itachi and Sasuke was an inseparable bond between brothers, and as their friends, the ninja cats did not want to see them torn apart.”

Hanabi reached for Sasuke’s hand, and squeezed his fingers. Tears were forming in his eyes, but he did not cry.

“We weren’t sure how to tell the truth to the Village and be believed,” Nekokira went on, his voice sad. “It is our experience that humans will believe what is convenient. It is far easier to believe one man is a monster when he wears the enemy’s cloak than it is to believe that he suffered for you and has accepted his fate. Enma and I spent many days trying to come up with ways to bring the two brothers together, and home, and we came up with nothing.

“Several years ago, I received a strange request from my brother, Nekomata, who had an especial fondness for Sasuke and Itachi. He said that Itachi had written to ask that a ninja kitten be gifted to his adopted little sister for her birthday later that year, a request that had been unheard of in ages. When my brother told me that, I knew this was our chance. I had 2 kittens, a son and a daughter, and I thought that Sasuke and Hanabi should have them, if I felt that Hanabi would be strong enough for what came next. Enma disguised himself as a kitten as well, and I gave Hanabi all three of the kittens. Hanabi loved Itachi unconditionally, and she is strong-willed and intelligent. I believed that she would bridge the rift between the two brothers and that her and Enma and I together could save them both from you.” He purred at her affectionately as he added, “And I let her sign her name on my scroll, in case she needed me for anything else.”

“No one believed Itachi was guilty more than I did,” Sasuke added. “But if I can see what a fool I’ve been, I have faith that you can, too.”

None of them spoke for several minutes. Hanabi’s team was finished telling their story. It was in the hands of the council. They’d been instructed before the council of the proper protocol of this hearing. Hanabi’s defense team for Itachi was allowed to speak first, uninterrupted—most gathered had respected that, but some outbursts had happened regardless—and then the gathered Shinobi would discuss amongst themselves and Hanabi and her friends were not allowed to speak unless questioned.

When the silence exceeded two minutes, Tsunade knew that was the cue to continue. “My friends,” she addressed the council, “we have heard the case of Itachi Uchiha, and now we are to decide what is to be done. Discuss.”


	27. Decisions, Decisions

Timeline: 9 years 4 months post-massacre

* * *

 

“Discuss,” Tsunade’s voice pierced the silence, echoing softly off the high-ceilinged chamber.

For several moments, no one spoke. Hanabi waited, her heart pounding. She’d never felt more nervous in her life. She was proud that she had actually done something meaningful. Even if they denied this hearing and Itachi’s legacy forever labeled him a criminal, she would know that the truth was known about him anyway, and she had done her best for him. She looked at Sasuke, and saw reflected there the same heartbreaking hope. She squeezed his hand again.

He squeezed hers in return, and smiled shakily _. Thank you_ , he mouthed.

“I served in ANBU with Itachi,” Ibiki offered. “I’ve never told this to anyone, but… I caught sight of him one night on a vigil. He didn’t see me. He was looking at a picture of his brother and crying. The massacre was soon after. I had… guessed… that Itachi had not wanted to do what he had done, but I never said anything because I feared I might be silenced.”

The four masks of ANBU—the three soldiers and the captain—nodded somberly. They knew full well that Danzo would have silenced him if he had spoken aloud. “It’s true,” the Captain confirmed. “Root was often used to silence unfavorable opinions.”

“Itachi was always respectful in class,” Iruka stated. “I was a teaching aid for his class when he was at the academy. He was quiet, but good with the other kids and always followed all of the rules. Ebisu-sensei was teaching back then, and he was singing Itachi’s praises up until the moment he received the news of that night.”

“I was his first captain in ANBU,” Kakashi said next. “And we encountered him several times in battle, and I have to admit that if he had wanted to kill any of us, it should not have been too difficult. I don’t think he wanted to.”

Sakura took the cue from her sensei and felt brave enough to speak up. “He caused Sasuke a lot of pain when we were younger. Probably the most pain out of anyone here. If Sasuke is willing to forgive his brother, I think we should be able to as well.”

Tsunade nodded, approving of Sakura’s response.

Hiashi grimaced. “This isn’t about forgiving the boy,” he gritted out. “This is about whether or not to honor him in his death for an unforgivable crime. It’s about whether or not he is at fault. I think that he is. He should have seen right through Danzo and gone straight to the Hokage.”

Shikamaru was nodding in agreement.

“He was worried about his brother, you idiot!” Naruto growled at him. Hiashi’s eyes narrowed at the outrage. “Didn’t you have a brother once?”

Hiashi’s face slackened at once, and Hanabi understood that he had hit a nerve. She stared at the young man her sister wanted with awe, realizing why it was that so many followed him. Hiashi was cowed in an instant.

Naruto turned back to Tsunade. “I’m with my friends. If Sasuke thinks Itachi is innocent, and Sakura agrees with Sasuke, I agree with them both.”

“Well,” Kurenai added uncertainly, “Itachi’s already dead. I don’t see what the harm is in clearing his name. He doesn’t pose a threat to the village.” She shrugged and lowered her eyes to her hands, trying to avoid eye contact.

“That’s true,” Shizune agreed. Gai and Shikamaru were nodding.

“I didn’t know the guy, but the story makes sense,” Shikamaru added. “I did know Danzo and I didn’t like him very much. This sounds like something he would do.”

“Can’t say I blame Itachi,” Yamato said. “He was young and scared for Sasuke’s well being. I might have done the same thing.” The ANBU were nodding in agreement now.

“I knew him, and I knew him pretty well,” said one. “He never did anything without cause. Itachi was never a wasteful ninja. I find it hard to believe he would have done this without a damned good reason.”

“Agreed,” said another.

They continued discussing for over an hour, all the while she and Sasuke shifting uncomfortably on their toes. Standing still for that long was tedious. She envied Enma and Nekokira their stoic patience; both ninja animals were still as statues, watching the entire exchange with flawless attention. They had no glances to spare for either her or Sasuke. She understood, though; these two had waited for Itachi’s absolution for far longer than either of them. They’d made his cause their life work. Actually, she wondered how much they cared for her at all. Had they just used her to achieve their goals?

It didn’t really matter, in the end. Their goal was her goal, too. She listened to the council as they debated the case of Itachi, though it sounded pretty positive. Most were in agreement. Hiashi was against any move to clear Itachi, probably because of her, and one of the ANBU, Shizune, Gai, and Shikamaru were hesitant. As she listened, she shut her eyes and thought about Itachi, offering up silent prayer that this all turned out in his favor. She imagined that Sasuke’s hand was Itachi’s hand, and pretended that he was there with her, smiling at her as they awaited the council’s decision together. _I’m so proud of you,_ he’d say. _You’re so grown up._

“Alright, then, I think we are finished here,” Tsunade’s voice cut through her reverie. She opened her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. Sasuke’s hand tightened around hers, and she felt the bones shift. She cringed, but ignored it. “Shikamaru, Naruto and I will decide. Guilty, or not guilty? Shikamaru?”

Shikamaru lounged back in his chair and stifled a yawn with one hand. Councils and meetings were not really his thing. “Well.” He glanced around the table. “I’ve listened to an awful lot of talking today. I don’t think he’s guilty at all.” Tsunade gave him a look. “Oh, hehe.” He cleared his throat and straightened. “I, Shikamaru Nara, find Itachi Uchiha not guilty of the Uchiha Massacre.”

Hanabi’s heart soared. The grip on her hand ground even tighter, and she lost feeling in her hands. She didn’t care. She couldn’t move anyway.

“Naruto?”

“Naruto Uzumaki here,” the Sixth Hokage declared in his brazen voice. “And Itachi Uchiha is most certainly NOT GUILTY.”

Tsunade glared at him, miffed at his breech in decorum. Ultimately she sighed, defeated. Trying to teach the young man manners was a lost cause. “Not that my vote matters anymore,” Tsunade grumbled, “but I, Tsunade Senju, also find Itachi Uchiha not guilty of the Uchiha Massacre.”

Next to her Sasuke laughed nervously, overcome with disbelief. “Really?” he asked no one in particular. His eyes glanced skyward, as if thanking a deity. Then, he turned to her and embraced her, squeezing her tight to his chest.

Hanabi let herself be hugged. It stirred butterflies in her belly, for some strange reason. Itachi’s hugs had never done that to her before. When he let her go, she felt mildly disappointed and wondered why. In a daze, she returned her attention back to the council. Sasuke’s fate had still not been decided.

Tsunade took a deep breath. “Now we turn to the matter of Sasuke Uchiha. Sasuke is accused of desertion, attempting to kill Shinobi of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, and joining forces with our number one enemy, the Akatsuki. He has returned to us willingly and asks now for your justice. Sasuke?”

Sasuke took his cue to plead his case. His narrative was much shorter than hers had been, and much less dramatic. “I don’t ask you for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I had believed that my brother killed our clan for no reason at all, and I hated him for it. My hate and my revenge feel like something that lives inside me. My teammates can tell you that I’ve always struggled to control it. I am accused of desertion, but I have returned. I am accused of attempting to kill Shinobi, but none of them died except for Danzo, and in the end it was because he destroyed himself in his attempt to kill me. I am accused of joining forces with the Akatsuki, and yet, here I am. What I am most guilty for is killing my brother, and he wanted me to do it. I am ashamed of nothing I have done except for that. And for that,” he finished quietly, “for that I am truly ashamed. Do with me what you will. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

Hanabi watched Sasuke with interest. She hadn’t known him very long, and his part in today’s events was not part of the plans she made with Nekokira and Enma. What he said was unrehearsed and all his own. She admired how he stood there, his gaze level, posture relaxed, and breathing even. He was not afraid, she realized; he had accepted whatever fate would grant him. Had guilt over his brother’s death really prepared him to die, she wondered?

“Friends,” Tsunade began, “we have heard the case of Sasuke Uchiha. Now we are to decide what is to be done. Discuss.”

Much like before, the Shinobi hesitated. Then, as one, all fifteen Shinobi stood from their chairs, expressions blank. Hanabi’s breath caught in her throat. This was not expected. What were they about to do? Their silence and their unity were intimidating. Hanabi felt a keen urge to rush to Sasuke and hold his hand again, just to let him know that she was there to support him.

 And then, in unison, fifteen bodies bowed slightly, and fifteen voices rang. “Welcome home, Sasuke!”

Hanabi nearly fainted again with relief. Sasuke sank to his knees, eyes wide with shock. When she could feel her legs again, she went to him, wrapping her thin arms around his shoulders. “Welcome home,” she whispered, just as Naruto laid a hand upon her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said to her. “Hanabi, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Naruto.” He rubbed his ear nervously. “I guess I should say that I’m the Sixth Hokage. Still getting used to that.”

“Nice to meet you,” she barely managed.

“Yeah!” His smile was infectious. Something about it told her everything was going to be just fine. She released a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, feeling suddenly exhausted. “Hey, Hanabi, can you give us a minute?” She nodded and retreated, falling back to keep company with Nekokira and Enma.

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” she said to them, “for your help.”

Enma grasped her forearm, his way of shaking hands. She latched on to his as well. He smiled, a facial gesture that reached all the way up to his eyes. “The pleasure is entirely mine, Hanabi Hyuuga. You should be very proud of yourself. Itachi would have been pleased. It is I who should thank you. I made a promise to Sarutobi many years ago that I was certain I could not keep. I told him as such, but Sarutobi had a faith that could move mountains.”

Nekokira nuzzled her with his great shaggy head and purred. “We could not have done this without you, Hanabi,” he said to her. “I am forever in your debt. It was the wish of all ninja cats that these two Uchiha be at peace, and now they are. I hope you will summon me whenever you feel the need. I would be glad to help you in any way. It is also my joy, as a father, to know that my kittens will be well looked after.”

Her heart swelled at the praise, and she hugged them both. Enma did not appear to be accustomed to hugs, but Nekokira, being a cat, melted under the attention. “I hope to see you both again,” she said to them.

Nekokira nodded, but Enma shook his head sadly. “My time in this world is ending,” he told her sadly. “My son has taken my place as King, and I have achieved the last thing I set out to achieve, thanks to you. I can rest peacefully now.” He smiled, his eyes adopting a far off look toward the ceiling. “Sarutobi owes me a game of Shougi. It will be my 100th win in a row.” He turned back to them both. “It has been an honor. Both of you. Farewell.”

“Goodbye,” she answered, “and good luck with your game.”

“Good hunting,” Nekokira told him. “I will see you again in the forever lands.”

With that, Enma disappeared in a cloud of smoke. It made Hanabi sad to see him go. She would miss his lectures as her cat, Washi, and the way he was always there for her even when he was not. It took a special kind of person to spend the rest of his life trying to prove a man he had never personally known was innocent. He had earned her eternal respect. “Are you leaving, too?” she asked Nekokira.

He tilted his head, ears twitching, and smiled at her. “Yes, my dear,” he said to her. “I have great news to relay to my mate and Granny Cat. I am already anxious to be home. Will you be all right, now?”

She scratched his ears, and he purred in appreciation. “Yes, I will be all right. I think I should go talk to my father.” They exchanged their goodbyes, and then Nekokira returned to his home as well.

She glanced over to where Sasuke was. Sakura, the pink-haired kunoichi who Hanabi understood to be his former teammate, was hugging him tightly and trying not to cry. Kakashi, their silver-haired, masked jounin sensei, stood nearby. He looked relieved to see the situation at its conclusion. Naruto stood close as well. His expression was far more serious than Hanabi had seen it all day. Sasuke looked dazed, and did not seem to be suffering for the attention.

She smiled and turned toward the other Shinobi who had come to serve the council. The ANBU had all gone; she suspected they were needed elsewhere. Gai and Iruka were waiting for the reunion of Team Seven to be less tearful so they could welcome Sasuke home personally. Tsunade remained in her chair, watching it all with a smile on her face. The rest had gone, all except for Hiashi. He waited in the shadows of the room, his expression stern as ever.

He was waiting. For her. “Father,” she greeted him, wondering if her voice sounded as scared and small as it felt.

“Hanabi,” he greeted her back. There was no warmth between them.

They stared at each other. She tried to look defiant; she stood with her back straight, her posture relaxed, and her eyes trained on his. She didn’t feel defiant, but she needed to convey confidence to him. She didn’t want him to believe for an instant that she regretted anything about what she had done, and she knew in her heart that he would disapprove of that forever. Nonetheless, she needed to stand up to him. He waited, arms crossed over his chest, expression severe. Then, much to her surprise, he reached down and scooped her up with both of his mighty arms, pulling her as tightly to himself as he could. “Hanabi, I was so worried,” he whispered. “We all were. I’m so glad you’re alive.” He set her back down lightly on her feet. “Hanabi… Neji… he’s been killed.”

Hanabi felt like she’d been shot in the chest. “No,” she whispered. “Not Neji… not him.” She didn’t want to believe that her beautiful, strong cousin was gone. She collapsed against her father and wrapped her arms around his waist. She didn’t even have time to consider that he was actually showing emotion for once.

He hugged her tight and actually stroked her hair. “Hanabi,” he said softly, “I won’t profess to understand why you trusted this boy, and I won’t pretend that I’m okay with it, but I love you, and I am glad that you are safe. Can you forgive me for that?” Dumbly, she nodded. She’d lost enough family. Enough was enough. He sighed, relieved. “We should go home, then. Your sister misses you. Tenten and Lee are there, too. I imagine that Gai will show up later as well.”

Stealthily, they made their exit. Her part in this play had been sung, and Sasuke was the center of attention now. She’d merely been an instrument by which justice had been served, and now, her purpose fulfilled, she was dismissed. She didn’t mind. She’d never really liked being the center of attention anyway. She didn’t want their attention now. Itachi was dead, and Neji was dead, and her mother was dead. It was time to grieve for her lost. She let the tears flow silently as she and her father made the quiet trek back to their home, all the while fascinated by how one day could go from being so amazingly wonderful to so tragically sad in an instant.

She didn’t even know they were home until a bundle of Hinata barreled into her, her arms flying around her and squeezing her for dear life. “Hanabi!” she shrieked, ending on a sob. “I was afraid you were dead!” Her sister’s shoulders shook as she cried, overwhelmed with gratitude.

She held her sister’s head as she cried. “Aw, come on Hinata,” she comforted her softly. “You know that I’m stronger than that.”

Hinata released her hug and held her little sister at arm’s length. “Yes, I know, Hanabi.” Her eyes teared up, and the look in her eyes was so pained that Hanabi’s heart broke a little more. “But Neji was the strongest.”

Hanabi didn’t argue with her because it was true. Neji had been stronger. He was always calmer, smarter, faster, and stronger than all of them had been. She’d remembered the way that Tenten had watched his graceful movements as he worked his way through his forms to keep his body in shape. She remembered feeling her pangs of envy, too, when she watched his far superior rotation. She could do things with hers that no other Hyuuga could do, but the range on Neji’s rotation put every Hyuuga to shame. She remembered how, with quiet determination, Hinata strove to be even a tenth of the ninja that Neji was, and never resented him for it, and how Hiashi had finally accepted Neji’s presence in their family, and told him how much he respected his talents.

Neji had been the best of them, she realized. And now Neji was gone, too.


	28. Memorial

Timeline: 11 years post-massacre

* * *

 

In a quiet grove in a garden, there was a statue built to honor the life of a true Shinobi. The garden had been Hinata’s idea; she’d planted most of the bulbs herself, with the help of her sister, Hanabi. Morning glory, carpetflower, tulips and peonies, honeysuckle, lilac… the Hyuuga estate had spared no expense.

It had been carved from pure black onyx, and the original stone had not been cheap. The black was appropriate, though, and Hanabi had insisted upon it. Hiashi had not been willing, but an anonymous donor had left a large sum of money with the Hokage and funded the whole project. Tsunade refused to say where the money had come from. Hanabi had no idea who could have afforded it or who would have cared enough to do so, but she was grateful.

It was almost six feet tall and pure black. He’d been depicted wearing his ANBU uniform. Hanabi had fought for the black and red cloak she had always been so fond of, but been hotly denied. The Hokage was against allowing the enemy’s cloak to be worn by a monument. It did not seem right to Tsunade that the cloaks they’d fought against and died against should be worn in honor. Hanabi didn’t like it, but she didn’t have a choice nor a say in the matter.

Hanabi looked deep into the painted red eyes of the statue. She was of a height with him, almost, and could see right into them. That was convenient; when she was younger, he could kneel and look her in the eyes. He could no longer kneel; his statue lacked those abilities. She gazed into those fake red eyes and tried to see him in there. But no... it was, after all, just a statue. She wrapped her arms around the cold, unfeeling stone and tried to feel something. “Itachi,” she whispered, “I miss you.”

The statue didn’t answer.

She sighed and snuggled closer to the statue, memories of a kinder day in her life forefront in her mind. She came here whenever she could to reminisce on the older brother she’d had, once upon a time. The statue was far colder than Itachi had been, and it did very little to make her feel better when she was sad.

Fortunately, she was very seldom sad now. Hinata had moved back into the house, and they were able to spend all of their time together again, just like old times. They didn’t make blanket forts as often. Both of them had grown up, finally. At eighteen, Hinata was self-assured, beautiful, and at long last, she was _strong_. Years of intensive training and self-discipline had honed her talents and her body. No one would worry about her getting killed on a battlefield ever again.

Particularly not if she was anywhere near a certain blonde-haired hero who called himself the Sixth Hokage, a man she called fiancé, now. Once he slowed down and started doing some thinking—and once Sakura had knocked him in the head a few more times—he’d made a point of spending more time with Hinata. Naruto being Naruto—a man who freely offered his friendship to any who wanted it—it did not take long after that. There’d be a wedding soon, and then, someday, babies. Babies that Hanabi could spoil and teach, just like Itachi had done for her.

Hanabi had become a chunin almost immediately after the Uchihas’ hearing. The war had claimed hundreds of lives, and the ranks of Konoha needed to be replenished with fresh jounin. All of the rookie nine from Naruto’s year were jounin now, Hinata included. Konohamaru and his friends were undergoing some testing and might be promoted soon. She was happy to remain a chunin for a while longer. Ever since Itachi and Neji had died, she’d wanted to stay as far away from death as possible. Jounin could wait.

Konoha wasn’t going to let her wait. She had the skills and the experience. She would be made a jounin.

“Itachi…I don’t want to be a ninja,” she said to him. She meant it. She had seen enough death and tragedy for a lifetime. Being a ninja meant that she’d see a lot more of it. But could she really hide from it, even if she were not?

_Be strong, Hanabi. You cannot protect them if you are not._

“I know, I get it,” she grumbled as if he’d really said it. She’d never be able to quit being a Shinobi, but sometimes she wished for it.

She sensed his presence before she saw him. Sasuke came here almost as much as she did. They’d grown a lot closer over the years, brought together by circumstances. They were the only ones who understood each other. She smiled crookedly at him, but said nothing. They didn’t need words. He smiled back and lifted a bag he was holding. It was a simple paper bag with twine handles, and its contents were not wrapped. “For you,” he said to her.

She accepted the bag without a word. As she was digging into it, Sasuke approached the statue. He pulled something from his pocket and fastened it around the onyx statue’s neck. Hanabi gasped softly as she saw it: it was the necklace that she’d made for Itachi more than ten years earlier. “I’ve kept it all this time,” Sasuke said to the statue. “I figured you should have it back.”

She was trying not to cry, but it was impossible once she pulled the folded up cloth from within. It was a black cloak with red cloud patterns. She hugged it tight to her chest and inhaled, trying desperately to breathe in his scent and bring him back. “It won’t work,” Sasuke said over his shoulder. “It’s not his. It’s mine. But, they look the same. Bring it here.”

She did as she was told, and brought the cloak to Sasuke. “No one must know,” he said softly to her. “This is for us.” She nodded but found she could not speak as he lifted the cloak to fasten around his shoulders. When he had fastened it and shifted it so that it looked real, he stepped back to admire it. He nodded with satisfaction and held his arm out.

She accepted the comforting gesture and pressed herself into his side. “That’s better, isn’t it?” he asked her.

She nodded. “Yes, it looks just like him,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

“No, Hanabi,” he corrected her. “Thank you. For everything. You saved me from myself, and you gave me my brother back. I owe you.”

She said nothing. She’d been given excessive praise throughout her life. Her teachers always told her what a wonderful student that she was, but it was because Itachi had taught her everything they meant to teach her. Her father pushed her harder and harder, and his praise was rare, but praise from Hiashi was like a thousand gold stars from a sensei. She’d been told by Hinata that she was beautiful and clever, and told by her friend Tenten that she was wily and strong. But none of it would ever compare to being told how proud Itachi was of her. It felt much the same coming from Sasuke, and she didn’t know what to say. “Don’t mention it,” was all she said.

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I am glad you are in my life, Hanabi Hyuuga,” he told the top of her head.

She felt the beginnings of butterflies in the pit of her stomach at what he’d just done. She liked the feel of him, like this. She liked his arm around her, and his breath in her hair, and she liked it when he hugged her or kissed the top of her head—or her cheek—and told her how grateful he was to know her. He was never like this around other people, a realization that made her feel special, like he was saving the softer side of himself just for her. Something about it felt… right. When he touched her, she didn’t want him to pull away, and when he held her, she didn’t want him to let go. It was confusing to wonder why, and it reminded her of the times long ago when she’d asked her mother about her feelings about Itachi.

_I have a theory, about love. It is said that every person has one true soul mate. It is that person that they can feel an undeniable connection with, someone they cannot live without. This is the origin of the theory of love at first sight, the idea that you know immediately if you love somebody without the need for spoken words._

With that in mind, she thought about Sasuke again. Did she feel an undeniable connection? She thought about the butterflies, and about how she craved his nearness, and she decided yes. Could she live without him? She wondered about that. Technically, probably yes, but he had known Itachi like she had known Itachi, and their bond over their older brother was something that comforted them both. She might be able to live without Sasuke, but she didn’t want to.

She raised her arm and wrapped it around his waist. It felt as if it belonged there. She peered up at his face from her lower vantage point. It was a pretty good face. It wasn’t Itachi’s, but it was different in a good way. It had softened since he’d returned to the Village; the hatred had drained away, and he smiled more. She liked it when he smiled. On the rare occasion that he smiled at her, the butterflies came back.

He noticed her looking at her and peered down into her face. “Something wrong?” he asked, concern so evident in his voice that she was convinced.

Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with Sasuke Uchiha. But it wasn't time yet. Someday, perhaps. “No, nothing’s wrong. Everything is just perfect.”

* * *

 

Night fell on Itachi’s grove, and he stood his vigil alone, his Sharingan eyes peering into the blackness as if daring the shadows themselves.

 _Or as if he were waiting for something… or someone_ , she thought as she crept into the small grove, wondering if, in death, he knew the truth about her at last. She regarded the statue for the first time, mesmerized by the quality of the work. “It looks just like him,” she breathed aloud to no one. She felt drawn to the statue, her heart pounding. She reached out with one slender hand and touched his cold stone lips. “I’ve missed you, lover,” she whispered to his likeness before kissing them.

But he didn’t move like the real Itachi had. He didn’t lose himself in her embrace or devour her kiss like it was the last thing in the world that could save him. He didn’t sweep her up off her feet and carry her to the bed. He didn’t toss her down upon the mattress and pin her with his body. This Itachi had waited a lifetime for her and been let down, and he didn’t love her anymore. With regret, she pulled away from the memorial’s lips and snuggled into his side like the girl he’d seen here earlier. Hanabi, she was called. She cradled herself into his shoulder and tried to pretend he could put an arm around her. “If only you had known, my love, how much you really meant to me. It wasn’t all an act,” she mourned.

“My real name is Nozomi,” she admitted to the statue, “and yes, I was a part of Root. I was bad at it, though, and I hated it. When Danzo was selecting candidates to keep watch on you, I volunteered so that I could get out of there. I had never dreamed that you were… _you_ , and I loved you from the very start.”

She closed her eyes, remembering how she’d awoken, tucked into her bed with her book and her tea after he had believed her to be dead. Even in his sorrow and his pain, he’d done what he could for her. She felt guilty for her role in the massacre. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” she went on. “I didn’t want to die like Danzo had intended for me, so I did some research, and I switched the poisons. I picked one that would make me seem dead so that I could complete my mission, and then I was going to come and find you.

“You had a partner, though, and he frightened me, and I could never defeat him in battle. I was never a very good ninja. So I waited, hoping beyond hope that some day you’d find your way back here, to me. I waited for you, Itachi, but I am ashamed that I did nothing else.”

She pulled away from the statue then, and gave him one final look and one more “I love you” before she swept her way out of the grove and donned her ANBU mask. She had heard all about the young Hyuuga girl that Itachi had adopted as a sister, the enigmatic little girl who had changed the fate of the Uchiha. That girl had found out the truth, and she had fought for him.

And meanwhile, Nozomi had done nothing. _I was a coward after all,_ she thought bitterly. All their time together, Itachi had professed how he had not deserved her, and she had laughed at him and believed it to be so. _How ironic._ Now she knew exactly who she was, and she knew the truth. _It was I that did not deserve you, Itachi…_

_…but from now on, I will be stronger. We will meet again, someday, when I, too, am dead and gone. When I see you again, I will be strong, and you will be proud of me._

 

 

_Maybe you will you even love me again._


End file.
